


Figwit’s Journal - Grouses of an Elf of Rivendell

by Umeko



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Babysitting, Crack, Diary/Journal, Domestic, Drunkenness, F/M, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Last Homely House, Mischief, Pranks, Snarky Elves, Third Age, council meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-17 21:03:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 77
Words: 70,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2323100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umeko/pseuds/Umeko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who is Figwit (Melpomaen)? Here is a peek into the elf's journal and a take on living in Imladris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meet the Twins

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s to that elf in the corner known as Melpomaen or Figwit who appeared for a brief moment of fame in the Peter Jackson movies, twice. Yes, I know he does not exist in Prof Tolkien’s canon LOTR but hey, this is fanfic and a crack fic on top of it. 
> 
> With luck, we will cover the major events of the Third Age (with a healthy dose of domestic drama and courtly backstabbing).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Figwit agrees to babysit a pair of twins and soon regrets it. Some thoughts are better not committed to paper.

_Imladris, Iavas, T.A. 132_

Dear Journal

When I agreed to come here, I was not expecting this. I knew it was a toss-up between Imladris and being on the road with Gildor Inglorion and his merry company. Sleeping under a decent roof on a proper feather-bed beats cowering from a rainstorm in a tree hollow with someone’s boot poking into your kidney any day, merry or not. Personally, I blame the whole debacle on those Nandor elves. If it weren’t for Haldir and his brothers… It was only an elm tree, and one with a bad termite infestation. How am I to know it was so special to the brothers because they planted it on their adar’s grave? Lord Celeborn always takes the side of his woodland kin, so guess who’s set on the road out from Lothlorien.

It is pleasing to see how much motherhood suits Lady Celebrian. She has definitely grown up from that Miss Spoilt Rotten Highness back in Lothlorien. She’s probably the reason for her parents’ reluctance to reproduce again. We were glad to see the back of her when she wed Lord Elrond. As for Lord Elrond… At least he has some Noldor blood in him, and was raised as one instead of as a Sinda, even if by a pair of accursed Kinslayers.

“Do you mind taking care of my sons?” she asks. “We will only be an hour…”

“Aye,” I say. So the good lady and lord go shut themselves in their chamber for some private-time while yours truly was stuck with the twins all morning. At least she could have warned me they were teething before rushing off to try for elfling number three. Lady, beg pardon, but these two are more than a handful.

Everyone knows Lord Elrond’s grandfather Tuor of the White Wing was human, likewise his great-grandfather Beren One-hand. His mother had Sindarin blood and a bit of Maia from her foremother Melian. Lady Celebrian had a decent mix of Noldo and Sinda from her parents. The last time I checked the twins have no orcish or warg ancestry. So why in the name of the Valar do they bite like a pair of warg-pups? I have my suspicions about Luthien Morningstar and a certain wolfhound…

My only consolation is that my unseemly screams from the mauling were drowned out by the vigorous sounds emanating from their parents’ bedchamber. I swear this is the last time I babysit and not even that airheaded blond Glorfindel will convince me otherwise.

P.S. I should tear out this page and burn it to ash lest someone finds my journal.

_(Figwit attempts to burn the page only to have a gust of wind whisk it out of his heavily bandaged hands and straight into the face of a passing Glorfindel. Elrond’s captain is less than amused by the contents. Figwit spends the rest of the week up a chimney while a blond warrior combs the precincts of Rivendell with dire promises to avenge the honour of his lord’s noble house.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The back story is my spin on it - Figwit getting kicked out of his original home and having to seek employment with Elrond's household. Celeborn probably had him sent from Lorien with Gildor to avoid a potential kinslaying by 3 very angry elf brothers.
> 
> Iavas - Sindarin for autumn


	2. Who Let the Cows Out?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Figwit takes on his duties as Chamberlain to the Last Homely House.

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 140_

Dear Journal

It has been a while since I last had time to write. I am adjusting still to the calendar system they use here in the valley. That pompous ass councillor Erestor had the nerve to suggest I could do with more lessons in Quenya. Elrond has appointed me to the role of Chamberlain after the last one quit for the Grey Havens. I will be in charge of managing the household, things our great councillor is too wrapped up with his scrolls to notice.

One thing I can say is that with Lord Elrond’s ring, the valley is most temperate and quite comparable to Lorien, with less mallorn trees and more waterfalls of course. Firewood should not be a problem, until Erestor neglected to inform me of our human guests- some visiting Mannish prince and his party. The Second-born still require a fire at night at this time of the year. The little brat came down with pneumonia, no doubt aided by the fact he had been swimming so early in the year. The good news is that Lord Elrond expects the lad to live. So there is no messy diplomatic incident with Gondor to be dealt with.

Kinslaying or not, I would like to throttle the last elf who had my job. The place is a mess. The household baths are absolutely filthy and the plumbing’s all clogged up. It’s no wonder everyone washes in the Bruinen, except for Lord Elrond, his family and honoured guests, who get hot water lugged upstairs for their fancy bathtubs. Loss of grain from rot due to a leaking roof in the granary and the stables look set to fall apart in the next stiff breeze. Glorfindel has been bugging me today about a draft in his poor horse’s stall, again.

Tried to find the carpenter elf only to find he has run off to the Grey Havens with the milkmaid. Where are the cows of Imladris? Spent a wonderful and utterly useless afternoon bashing through the forest looking for those cows. They must have wandered out of the valley and become food for some orcs, wargs or bandits. Now I need to get a carpenter, a milkmaid and some cows…

Our Lady Celebrian tends to get cranky without her bedtime milk. Unable to secure cows at short notice but we have a mare with a foal in the stables. Hopefully she will not notice the difference.

_(The morning after, Lady Celebrian awakes with a very upset stomach. She remains both sick and cranky for the rest of the day. Figwit ends up babysitting her sons, who are just as cranky because they were supposed to go on a picnic by the waterfall with Nana instead of being stuck at home with Figwit. Meanwhile, Glorfindel is astounded to find Rivendell’s cows whilst out patrolling her boundaries. The guards herd the cows back home.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tuile- Spring (Quenya, Rivendell calendar) 
> 
> Fresh mare’s milk can cause a strong laxative effect in some, hence Celebrian’s tummy-upset.


	3. Of Neighbours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Figwit gripes about his noisy neighbours.

_Imladris, Quelle, T.A. 140_

Dear Journal

I have a new neighbour whom I sorely wish will take ship to Valinor. Don’t get me wrong, Lindir is a terrific musician but there are only so many times an elf could listen to the _Lay of Leithian_ before something gives. Apparently Lindir is of the practice-makes-perfect school of music. He sounds great in the Hall of Fire during the banquets but in the dead of night when one is trying to find reverie, he is just annoying.

Lindir settled here this summer when Gildor and company passed through. He used to spend the nights out in gardens when the weather was mild. Now that winter is coming, he has retreated indoors. Understand he requested a change of rooms after Glorfindel the Balrog Slayer threatened to slay him with his own lyre. One might think he would cut back on the night-time practice after that warning, but no. It apparently takes a lute to the skull for Master Lindir to get the message.

Reverie-deprived Glorfindel is a snappy elf and Erestor has to put up with that crap since they are both doing an audit of Imladris’ armoury for our lord this week. So Erestor stuck Lindir in the empty room next to mine. As chamberlain, I should be in charge of the accommodations, not Erestor. Lord Elrond has not quite forgiven me for giving Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel the room next to his the last time they visited Imladris to see the grandchildren. How was I to know you two rabbits will keep the parents up all night with your bedroom activities? Tired Lady Galadriel gets short-tempered.

Spoke to Erestor but he made some excuse about no rooms available. How about we stick dear Lindir and his music under the cellar-stairs? Praying to Eru Lindir will catch the wanderlust and take off as soon as the weather turns, before I toss him into the Brunien, lyre and all.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Quelle, T.A. 140_

Dear Journal

Thank Eru, I have been assigned a new room, away from Master Lindir’s. It’s been a few days since my last entry. Master Erestor has granted me my wish, with a generous bit of coin and wine, and assigned me new quarters. Persistence does pay off. Ah, peace and quiet… I am now writing from my new room-  

Elbereth! I thought we were being attacked by orcs. No, the racket, as it turns out was from the training yard where Glorfindel is training the guards. Something about night training to make up for the sessions he missed in the day thanks to that audit. A curse on Erestor for relocating me to the room overlooking the training yard. He must be laughing his head off now.

I seriously hope this night-exercise thing does not catch on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quelle - fading (Quenya, Rivendell calendar, transition into winter from autumn)


	4. Elflings are Watching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elrond and Celebrian's shows of affection irk their hapless chamberlain. Their sons get curious about the birds and bees.

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 150_

Dear Journal 

Once more I am impressed by our lord and lady’s public shows of unabashed affection. I understand Lady Galadriel and her lord were quite a lovey-dovey pair once. That honeymoon ended when their only elfling came along. Now Lord Elrond and Celebrian are just getting started. Hopefully their honeymoon does not last the better part of two Ages like her parents’. 

The serenading by moonlight is fine, as are the floral displays and romantic boat rides. Celeborn did that for his wife, in grand style, I must say. Picnics as a couple are fine too, so long as you get Lindir or someone else to watch the elflings. Skinny-dipping in the Brunien afterwards is not. Same for blatantly making out in the gardens or on the balcony in full view of everyone else. I get it- the weather’s warm, it’s stuffy indoors- but Imladris is a small community and our accommodations are not as spacious as you might want to believe. 

Seriously, your little elflings are watching. I do not wish to have to explain to them what their ada is doing with his hands up their nana’s skirts. 

I don’t get their eagerness to pop out another elfling so soon. Lady Galadriel waited for almost two Ages before having her first child. One might think Lord Elrond has some inferiority complex over his distant nephew’s ever-growing family when they come a-visiting. Come on, they need to ensure an heir and several spares to pick things up after they are gone. Unlike the Mannish Heirs of Isildur, it’s not like you will be losing any elflings when the next plague rolls around.   

If Lord Elrond’s Mannish heritage comes through, I expect we’d be overrun with rambunctious elflings within a century. Find another babysitter then, because I will be heading for the Grey Havens to take ship…

_(Figwit is interrupted by a knocking on the door and two wide-eyed elflings asking what Nana is doing in the hall under Ada’s robes. Red-faced Figwit makes some lame explanation about Celebrian fixing their adar’s robes. Twins will learn the truth several years down the road when they meet some ellyth eager to fix their robes by taking them off. Henceforth twins peg Figwit as a big liar.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Laire - summer


	5. Snow Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Figwit seriously ticks off old-timers Glorfindel and Erestor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Journal-writing in public can be hazardous, as Figwit learns.

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 154_

Dear Journal

Mightily bored due to unexpected heavy snowfall keeping everyone in the Hall of Fire. It would seem that I seek your company out solely for the purpose of ranting about my situation. Perhaps one day I will be able to refer to my journals while telling my elflings (should I be so blessed) of the good old days in Imladris. First and foremost, I am jolly sick of the First Agers telling me how good we have it now. Sure, I was born in the Second Age, but I was there for the War of the Elves against Sauron and the Last Alliance, so I do know a bit about battles, even if I was a scribe under Lord Celeborn.  I have no bones to pick with Lord Elrond but Master Erestor and Captain Glorfindel are another matter.

Let’s start with Captain Glorfindel. So you’ve slain a Balrog. Fine, I grant there are few of us still kicking about Middle Earth who can boast of such a feat, but get over it already. Must you compose an adaptation of the _Lay of Gondolin_ with Lindir? One which I must note, has Balrog-slaying as the centrepiece? Personally, I prefer the version where Tuor slays Maeglin and Idril kicks her cousin’s dying ass off a cliff.

I do not know how you old-timers were living it up in Gondolin while everyone else in Beleriand was busy fending off Morgoth’s minions, but seriously, silken horse blankets? You don’t see Lord Elrond riding about on a horse with silver stirrups and hand-embroidered silk horse blankets, do you? What’s it with the fancy bath oils and perfumes? Not even Lady Celebrian has such a wide selection of hair care products. Our brave captain can be relied on to use up all the hot water in the baths. Methinks the Valar booted Glorfindel’s ass back here before he uses up all the hot water in Valinor.

Now onto Master Erestor. Sure, you were teaching elflings Quenya and lore in the First Age and before, but your last students in the First Age were Elrond and Elros while they were under Maedhros’ care. Which brings to our attention that you were running about Beleriand with a pack of Kinslayers. The fact that old elves formerly of Sirion still spit at you as a form of greeting does suggest you were not the helpless scholar-hostage you claim to be. You can’t whitewash that so easily, no matter how coy you are about your past.

Now, I do not know how you managed to land a cushy job here in Imladris. Threatened to show Elrond’s artbook collection of nudes to his fiancée maybe? I am alarmed to find discrepancies in the household expenses since the founding of Imladris and I am not buying that ‘investment on behalf of Lord Elrond’ thing. I believe the last thing our master would want to get embroiled in is Arnorian horse-betting. Also noted during inventory of the wine cellars missing vintages I personally ordered and stashed away in preparation for the diplomatic visits by Lothlorien or the Woodland Realm.

I spy Erestor and Glorfindel in close discussion across the Hall of Fire and definitely not liking the looks they are giving me- Wait, with elven sight, they can read my writing-

_(The next morning while out on a stroll, Elrond and his wife are surprised to find his chamberlain bound, gagged and buried neck-deep in a snowdrift.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hrive - winter (Quenya)


	6. Something's Stirring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins approach maturity and get really interested in the fairer sex. Who else better to answer their questions but wise Erestor?

_Imladris, Coire, T.A. 160_

Dear Journal

It is the time of the year when Yavanna’s creations stir to life. Unfortunately, those aren’t the only things stirring. I am both pleased and alarmed to write that the boys are starting to show an interest in the ellyth of the valley. Lord Elrond brushed aside this unseemly precociousness as part of their Mannish heritage. All fine with him as he isn’t the one to have to rescue them from irate ellyth after they were caught peeking at the cook’s daughters in the baths. I liked it better when the only things I had to worry about were their pranks. How I miss the spiders in my bed!

The twins have matured far sooner than a full-blooded elfling would. I know from lore that Elwing and Earendil were in their thirties when they had their twins, well below Elven majority. I shudder to think of the twins fathering any elflings in Imladris or worse, among our Mannish neighbours. The boys have their own ponies and despite promises to remain within the bounds of Imladris, I fear they might be tempted by the woodcutter’s fair daughters- a pair of very comely Mannish twins I may add. Don’t come crying to us when your boys choose their uncle’s path.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Coire, T.A. 160_

Dear Journal

Woe is me. There have been a number of elflings born over the winter and food stores were running low. I was sent with the twins and master Erestor to the nearest town to trade for supplies. It was their first outing to a Mannish settlement and Erestor was there to allay them of any questions with regards to our Mannish cousins. To my horror, our esteemed councillor brought both boys to a house of ill-repute for their education. When I voiced my outrage, the little ingrates had me dunked in a rain barrel.

I fear my lord Elrond has been sorely misled by his councillor. When I brought up this matter to our lord afterwards, Erestor feigned innocence and claimed he had accompanied the boys in out of the goodness of his heart. The boys were curious about the fairer sex, both Mannish and Elven, and it was his duty as their tutor to aid them in unravelling one of life’s mysteries. I don’t know how Lord Elrond unravelled that mystery but in all likelihood it was in one of Gil-Galad’s tents whilst the High King was out fishing. Possibly with the aid of one of those fancy artbooks.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 162_

Dear Journal

I should not gloat at my colleague’s misfortune but hey, it just feels so good. Our lord finally cottoned onto why his sons have been camping so often with their tutor instead of remaining at home learning lore. Gildor Inglorion’s party had to rescue our two elflings from being beaten to a pulp or worse by a mob of dwarves after someone accosted one of their Mannish apprentices, a comely lass. I never thought Durin’s Folk are progressives but I guess you learn something new every Age. Elrond is also very annoyed by the massive bill his sons had racked up with their partying at the Madam’s.

Erestor got a huge ticking-off and a pay cut. The boys get grounded for the next century or so. Celebrian is much upset. Elrond has set up a strict schedule of duties in the House of Healing, lorework and arms-training for his sons. Our lord is also looking into the discrepancies in the household accounts managed by Erestor. Suddenly dear Erestor finds the urge to flee for the Havens.

Personally I would advise against that since Lord Cirdan was a survivor of Sirion and might wish to dunk him in the Gulf for old times’ sake. Stealing Glorfindel’s horse to flee Elrond’s wrath was a dumbass move, now you have pissed a certified Balrog-Slayer off too. I end here as I don’t wish to miss the sight of Glorfindel pummelling a horse-thief into the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coire- stirring (Quenya, Rivendell calendar, between winter and spring)  
> Tuile - Spring (Quenya) 
> 
> Moral of the story - never mess with Glorfindel's horsey.


	7. Her Lady's Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lady Celebrian is expecting and the household is thrown into chaos.

_Imladris (where else?), Yavie, T.A. 240_

Dear Journal

After a century of trying, the House of Elrond seems set to welcome a new member into the fold. However, things are not rosy in Imladris. As of last count, we have lost a cook, two scullions, the gardener, three healers and a dozen guards to the Grey Havens over the summer. Two more guards were lost to an orc-attack in a late season crossing of the Misty Mountains. The rest of us fear for our remaining sanity.

I understand expectant mothers can be difficult. Just ask Celeborn when Galadriel was quickening. Lady Celebrian takes it to a whole new level. She developed a craving for fresh sheep-cheeses, which are produced in Mannish settlements on the other side of the mountains. By order of Lord Elrond, we had sent a caravan through the High Pass to get the cheese, only to find none as a plague had beset the settlements, killing off their flocks. So no cheeses after a fortnight of hard travel and loss of two of the Firstborn. Cue a temper tantrum from Celebrian complete with flying Numenorean vases. At least she broke the ugly ones.

Obtained a dozen milk-ewes from Arnor and set the kitchen staff to work making sheep-cheese. The process is smelly and tedious, but it is better than having the lady being cranky. For once, Erestor is making use of his smarts in coming up with some device to make the work easier instead of feathering his nest.

Elrond is going out of his way to make his wife feel comfortable. When the scent of blooming roses nauseated her in the early months, every single rose bush within two miles of Imladris was torn up and composted. Lost our gardener then. Had to pack him off to the Havens for his deep grief over those roses. Then she started complaining of the smell from the compost and we had to cart everything to the edge of the valley to be burnt. Ha, a summer with not a rose in sight.

Cheese and roses aside, Celebrian has occasional fits of weepiness which have Lord Elrond paralyzed. Some nonsense about losing her little girl to the Doom of Man. This evening, I had to deal with the visiting Arnorion delegate while Elrond is stuck in his rooms comforting his lady. Erestor would have dealt with them if he were not locked away in his study tinkering with his device. Has been at it for a full week. I seriously believe he is a relation of the Kinslaying Feanorions, perhaps a cousin on their mother’s side. My Westron is lacking and I regret to say I might have compared the ambassador’s mother to a donkey. Our captain had to restrain our guest from putting his knife in my throat.

We are only partway through.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Quelle, T.A. 240_

Dear Journal

Twins have shown uncharacteristic wisdom by volunteering to escort some elves leaving for the Havens and spending the winter there making copies of some rare scrolls in Lord Cirdan’s keeping. Master Erestor’s cheese-maker works like a charm, for the first ten minutes before the whole thing exploded, spraying cheese all over the kitchen. A large knob from the device clobbered our would-be inventor on the head, so Erestor’s lying down in the Halls of Healing until he quits seeing double.

Lady Celebrian feels the cold more keenly now as she nears her time. To help her with her swollen legs, Lord Elrond has proscribed massage and a warm herbal bath. Had to send someone out for more firewood to heat up water for her baths and for the fireplace in her rooms.

Spotted our lord mucking about the orangery for late season oranges when his lady expressed a yearning for the fruit. The harvest from summer has already been boiled into marmalade by the cook. Alas, the taste of marmalade on toast is not enough to sate the lady’s desire for the citrusy fruit. Hopefully, he does not think to dispatch runners to Harad where the fruit is still in season at this time. After the cheese debacle, Glorfindel has stated that he would be sailing back to Valinor, Oath or not, should Elrond send him on a trip to pick fruit.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 240_

Dear Journal

Lord Elrond’s temper is increasingly frayed as his wife nears her time. Today he went so far as to kick Lindir out of the Hall of Fire after his _Lay of Leithian_ set off another of his wife’s weepy fits. That really wrecked the mood for the Yule feast, _mellon_. Yule is not the same without a minstrel to provide the music.

Despite the rough weather beyond the valley, Glorfindel has taken himself to the Havens to fetch twins as their naneth wants them close at hand during this difficult time. Methinks he would over-winter there with them. Wish I had the foresight to volunteer joining him on his little errand.

Must dash, the lady is ringing for her milk, or hot water for her foot bath… Hang in there… Spring will come, eventually…

* * *

 

_Imladris, Coire, T.A. 240_

Dear Journal

I fear Lady Celebrian has reverted to her Miss Spoilt Rotten persona and Elrond’s abetting her in the wilful torment of the entire household. Had to console a weeping Lindir after Celebrian complained his singing hurt her ears and Elrond gave orders to have Lindir locked up in the linen closet overnight. Lindir is claustrophobic. Poor elf was half-mad with fear when I finally let him out.

For once, both Erestor and I are in agreement. In his eagerness to placate his lady, Elrond has plunged the finances of Imladris into red ink. The sheep-cheese venture alone cost us a year’s revenue. The cost of refurnishing the nursery could have run Celeborn’s household for ten cycles of the Sun.

Glorfindel and the twins arrived this dusk, after ploughing through a snowstorm. I saw Elrond run out to greet them with an uncharacteristic hug. Methinks our lord is starting to buckle from the stress of catering to his lady wife. I do not recall Galadriel’s quickening being so trying on her household.  

I read that the Havens have a special healing ward to house elves whose minds have snapped from grief or torment before they can take ship to Aman. Book me a cot there, will you?

* * *

 

_Imladris, Coire, T.A. 240_

Dear Journal

Eru preserve us! Household in chaos. Elladan looking quite wild as he realises his Nana's refurnishing drive over the winter extended to his room. Pink and lavender is not his preferred colour scheme. Elrohir in a similar state after finding his bed pillows trimmed with lace and ribbons. Boys are bunking with the guards until their rooms are restored to their former state. After another tongue lashing from our master, Lindir had to be dissuaded from throwing himself off the falls by Glorfindel. I suppose knocking a suicidal elf out and dragging him back to the house counts as persuasion. Whatever works.  

* * *

 

Help – Mandos have mercy and take us! I seriously doubt Imladris will survive the way things are going. The Last Homely House is falling down, falling down... (ink blot) 

* * *

 

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 241_

Dear Journal

Praise be to Eru, Lord Manwe and Lady Varda! Our torment is at an end. Lady Celebrian has been delivered of a beautiful iell. Lord Elrond is beaming like any proud adar. The twins are awed by their little sister and look set to dote on her. The little one’s name is Arwen and I pray she will live up to it. 

Ah, peace... Yikes! What a pair of lungs that little girl has!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Figwit was starting to lose it near the end. Possibly Elrond too.
> 
> Arwen- noble maiden


	8. Sugar and Spice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arwen proves to be a feisty little lady and a handful to manage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Celebrian and Elrond might just dote on their little girl too much.

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 250_

Dear Journal

Sugar and spice and everything nice. Whoever said that of little girls never met sweet little Arwen (or her naneth as an elfling). Today is the tenth begetting day of Lord Elrond’s beloved and very pampered princess. There was a five-tier begetting cake with marzipan and sugar roses for the party. I say was because the confection never made it to the table. How did this happen?

First, we had our little Miss Sunbeam bounding through the halls on the new pony her brothers gave her for her begetting day. Riding in the house is strictly forbidden, I may add. Eru alone knows how she managed to get the beastie inside past the narrow doors and staff. Somehow Lady Arwen took it into her head to try jumping over the cake as it stood on the kitchen table. The rest is expected as one would expect-

With little Arwen bawling her eyes out while everyone else runs about like headless chickens trying to set things right for her. It took five whole days to make that cake, including the sugar roses. There is no way the kitchen could make it right before the party. There was cake all over the kitchen floor and regrettably, yours truly stepped on a pesky patch of cream and slid crashing into a stack of dirty pots and pans. The sight had Lady Arwen in giggles and she went shouting, “Again! Again!”

Excuse me, but I did not sign up to be court jester of Imladris… But, no, Lord Elrond insisted I entertain his little girl and her brothers were there to help me – by pelting me in the face with a banana cream pie and splashing me with a bucket of ice-water. Fancy cake forgotten, the little imp spent her begetting day party tossing cream-pies at me for sport with the rest of the household.

The last time a Firstborn was submitted to such humiliating treatment was at a certain Yule feast in Eregion where Master Celebrimbor was pelted with plum pudding and cinnamon buns mid-toast by a little girl, who incidentally grew up to be Lady Celebrian. The Dwarvish guests in attendance thought it was some odd elven custom and joined in enthusiastically burying our Master Smith under sweets. He had raisins and other brandied fruits in his hair for a sennight afterwards. I know because I was one of the valets assigned to him. The laundresses declared his formal robes a lost cause.

I do believe Lady Galadriel had a stern word with Celebrian afterwards. Doubt Elrond and Celebrian could be as stern with Arwen… I am letting it go because it is her begetting…

_(Hearing a sound, Figwit peers under his desk and gets hit in the face with a lemon meringue pie. Arwen scrambles out from her hiding place and runs giggling from the room.)_

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire T.A. 254_

Dear Journal

Elbereth! Arwen’s quite an imp. Even her brothers were more restrained in their pranks. No one else would dare scribble all over her adar’s rare scrolls from the First Age that survived the Sinking of Beleriand. Elrond looked positively ill over his scrolls but still he did not have the heart to spank her bottom. He did that for his boys when they put red dye in the baths so everyone came out looking like a boiled lobster.

Her tutor Erestor is at his wits’ end too. Arwen apparently gets headaches when confronted with algebra. History gives her colic. She was colicky as a baby and kept everyone up with her screaming, but one would think she has grown out of it by now. Astronomy gives her hives and Quenya grammar teeth-ache. All ailments of which require Erestor’s student to be excused from the schoolroom. Her naneth puts it down to her Mannish blood. However, one might note a run in the garden cures Arwen of the aforementioned aches more swiftly than any of Elrond’s tonics. If she were a full-blooded elf, Master Erestor would have smacked her ears and set her to translating the entire text of Quennar’s History of the Silmarilli to Quenya from Sindarin and then to Westron.

Celebrian spoils her rotten with all the allowances. She is the apple of her naneth’s eye. She does seem to heed her naneth, but a teensy sob and the puppy-eyes never fails to earn her that last sweet before dinner or permission to stay up late. Elflings her age should be in bed by ten or they get cranky the next day. And the sweets! She’s full of energy as it is and we don’t need her on a sugar-high. That is when she takes it into her head to emulate some of her brothers’ death-defying stunts. Remember the time the twins tried to ride an apple barrel over the falls? Captain Glorfindel might not be on hand to snatch wayward elflings to safety this time…

_(At a loud crash and scream, Figwit looks out the window to see little Arwen bawling in a rose bush, having discovering that flapping your arms and running off the roof does not turn one into a bird, even if your Grandmother Elwing turned into one by leaping into the sea while holding a shiny thing.)_

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire T.A. 256_

Dear Journal

Recently, Lady Celebrian has been trying to interest Arwen in more feminine pastimes like needlework with little success. Arwen prefers hanging out with her brothers, riding about the valley. Captain Glorfindel caught her having a go at the training dummies with a little wooden sword the other day. Her naneth’s been trying to get Arwen into long skirts but they keep getting torn up or muddied.

For the first time since Arwen’s birth, her grandparents are visiting from Lothlorien. Lady Galadriel’s firm hand might be just what we need to tame our wild little girl. At her last begetting day, Elladan made her a little archery set. Arwen demonstrated her skills with the bow by landing an arrow in Haldir’s butt during the formal welcome at the entrance to Imladris. Another landed in Rumil’s thigh and then Orophin caught one in the foot before Elrohir caught his sister chuckling in the branches overhead. I hope Lord Celeborn’s escorts enjoy the comforts of our House of Healing.

Arwen does have a lovely voice. She sweetly offered to sing in Lindir’s place at the welcome feast. As to Lindir’s absence, let’s blame the bees who somehow got into his water-skin and stung his throat. Someone thought it would be hilarious for him to get a mouthful of bees when trying to quench his thirst after giving her singing lessons. She was most apologetic afterwards and Lord Elrond did assure us Lindir will recover, given a month or so.

The _Hymn to Elbereth_ and the _Fall of Gondolin_ were skilfully rendered for one of such tender years, but lo! The soldierly ballad _Elves up a Tree_ and other cheeky drinking songs were not suited to the present company, nor were they proper in the least to be sung for one’s grandparents. Poor Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian were quite aghast. Lord Elrond looked as if he wished he could disappear into a hole in the ground. Lord Celeborn went quite pale at the _Lay of the Swan and the Gander_ , a ballad hailing from the First Age. It was a scathing satire on his courtship of Lady Galadriel. Glorfindel sneaking out of the banquet here as he was the one who wrote it with his buddy Ecthelion way back then. Talk about awkward. Only Lady Galadriel and the twins seemed remotely amused by events. Addled with wine, the twins then took off on a series of even more ribald and salacious verses which would have them grounded and shovelling the stables until winter.

The Lady of Lorien mentioned that Arwen reminded her of a long-gone cousin, Aredhel- that hard-drinking spitfire of a huntress who liked her men bad, really bad. Lord Celeborn countered that Arwen’s voice and beauty took after Luthien, her foremother and that she would be a real lady when she grows up, like Luthien. Lord Elrond countered that the Choice has not been offered yet and it is not yet known if she would indeed follow Luthien’s footsteps and cleave to her Mannish kin. Further discussion forestalled when Arwen rode her pony into the Hall of Fire to demonstrate her riding skills. How did she get the beastie in here with no one noticing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Arwen will mature into the worthy lady Aragorn so loves in Lord of the Rings- over the next couple of centuries or so. 
> 
> About the Lay of the Swan and the Gander - it is totally made-up. As for the authors, they were a little sore about the prettiest Noldo lass in Beleriand going off to wed a Sinda noble so the mocking 'Gander' applied to poor Celeborn. Maybe he should count himself lucky they did not go with the originally drafted 'The Swan and the Toad'.


	9. Lore and Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arwen's parents start taking her in hand. Figwit reflects on role-models and Peredhil children.

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 260_

Dear Journal

At Lady Galadriel’s advice, Lady Celebrian has started to include Arwen in the running the Last Homely House as well as taking a firmer stand with regards to her education. Thus it has become a common sight to see Celebrian tending her garden, weaving or baking with her iell. The calming influence of her nana seems to be working wonders taking her in hand. I am pleased to announce that she has ceased her disruptive practice of riding her pony indoors since last winter.

Master Erestor is gratified to report improvement in Arwen’s studies. The little girl is particularly taken by the lore of her foremother Luthien and the Quest for the Silmaril as well as the overly romantic tale of Melian and Elu Thingol’s meeting. Seriously, didn’t Thingol just lose his way or something of that nature? Of course it would sound nicer to say you were bespelled by a lady’s beauty than to admit you have been bashing about her patch of the forest for years thanks to your poor sense of direction. Still, the nobility and wisdom of Melian and her daughter is something for Arwen to aspire to. Another possible role-model is naturally Lady Galadriel. Also, Lady Idril of Gondolin. At the same time, I question the wisdom of looking up to ellyth who chose Men as their spouses, particularly scruffy ones who have been living as bandits or vagabonds. Perhaps Arwen should just look up to Lady Galadriel.  

One might note here the shocking lack of suitable Elven role-models for young iells here in Middle-earth’s lore. The twins never had any want for heroes to look up to. They admired Glorfindel the Balrog-Slayer, Beleg Cuthalion, Grand-uncle Finrod Felagund and naturally Grandfather Earendil. The High Kings from Fingolfin onwards are also highly admired by the boys and rightly so. No, Elladan did not look up to Beren One-Handed nor did Elrohir admire Maglor’s musical talent. Seriously, one is a bandit and other a Kinslayer. I stand by that no matter what they say.     

Master Lindir reports that Arwen is one of the best students he has ever had the pleasure of teaching. Although she has no preference for harp or lute, her voice was praised as comparable to Luthien’s by Lord Celeborn. How heartening it must be for Lindir after his failed attempts at teaching her brothers. Their Mannish blood, no doubt. Elrohir could manage the easier melodies on a harp but Elladan is hopelessly tone-deaf. Lindir says that their voices lack the depth and character for the more complex ballads. One should never allow Elrohir to sing the _Noldolante_ – unless you feel a lament should be conveyed as if by a bleating sheep. The last time he sang it, the Hall of Fire was filled with chuckles, except for that tramp of an elf who drops by occasionally accusing the poor lad of mocking his work. Wait… could that elf be… I’m not going to even think down that path…   

Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian had a minor argument on whether it would be proper for Arwen to be trained in arms like her brothers. It’s not as though we are open to attacks by dragons, orcs and wargs all the time like in the First Age. Sauron is gone, period. It might have been necessary for Lady Galadriel to learn the ways of the sword from Finrod Felagund back then but Lady Celebrian never undertook any arms-training. It is for the best, trust me. I recall the time in Eregion when Gildor talked a novice Celebrian into competing in the archery tournament to impress Gil-galad’s herald, Elrond. Milady, how did you manage to shoot an arrow backwards into the royal box? The good that came out of that mess was you getting to cosy up to Elrond in the healing tent where he was laid up thanks to that wayward arrow.

Lord Elrond is of the opinion his iell should be able to defend herself should the need arise. He suggested archery training to brush up on her skills and a bit of sword-training under Glorfindel. His lady-wife is not amused and intends to write to her nana to seek her august advice.  I am with Celebrian on this. Glorfindel is used to handling young ellyn but an elleth? Methinks Arwen will our captain wound about her little finger in no time…

_(Figwit dodges a stray arrow flying through his window.)_

I stand corrected. Lady Arwen needs strict instruction in archery - namely that it is not proper to shoot arrows at members of one’s household, even by accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figwit does have his own bias against the Edain and the Feanorions. 
> 
> Is that elf-tramp Maglor? Lord Elrond will not confirm or deny it. 
> 
> As for Arwen's training in arms, in the Jackson movies, she did wield a sword to defend Frodo but her role was less that of a warrior in the novels. No Hobbit-rescuing.


	10. Oops, Not Trash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Figwit incurs Elrond's wrath after discarding a precious heirloom by accident.

_Imladris, Coire, T.A. 265_

Dear Journal

I did not mean it, really! With spring fast upon us, I thought it would be proper to tidy up Lord Elrond’s study while he was away visiting Lord Cirdan in Mithlond. The place looks as if the War of Wrath happened to it on a good day. Tidiness was never one of Elrond’s stronger suits. Sweet little Arwen offered to help as her nana was busy sewing a new tapestry to be dedicated to Lady Vana at the upcoming Festival of Flowers. Whilst tidying some old scrolls, she chanced upon some metal shards in an old box. 

“I found some metal bits on the bottom shelf of the bookcase. Where should I put them?” she asked.

“Why, sweep them up and put them on the midden heap,” I said. I was busy filing away the household ledgers Elrond left behind the door to see what she was talking about. So she did as she was told.

Some days later, my lord Elrond came running from his study in a panic. “The Shards of Narsil are gone! Gone!” he screamed. Little Arwen came into the room with her nana then to see what was the matter.

“Are you referring to that box of metal bits on the bottom shelf, ada? I am afraid I tossed them out on the midden heap like Master Melpomaen said to…” Nice going with the teary eyes, Arwen.

That is why I spent the entire day rooting about the midden heap gathering the missing shards of Narsil under Elrond’s baleful eye. Seriously, I did not mean to throw away an important heirloom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the novels, the sword was snapped in two. In the Jackson movies, it was literally shattered to pieces. I am going with the sword gets shattered plot line. 
> 
> A midden heap is where the household would have tossed out their garbage- kitchen scraps, chamber pot contents, broken pots etc. Not exactly a pleasant place to be.


	11. Lothlorien

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The household goes to Lorien to visit the grandparents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for a change of venue. I am sure Figwit did travel out of Imladris on occasion.

_Lothlorien, Laire, T.A. 270_

Dear Journal

I am glad to be writing from Lothlorien after a long absence from this fair land. Lord Elrond has brought his family over the mountains to visit his law-parents and this time I am allowed to join them. I was hoping to hook up with that cute elleth I was walking out with when Lord Celeborn packed me off to Imladris. Sadly, I have since learnt that she has taken up with another and is now a nana.

We paid the necessary respects to King Amroth, the titular monarch of the realm. Of course, everyone knows Amroth is too busy sniffing about a certain Silvan elleth’s skirts, leaving much of the actual running of the realm to his kinsman Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. Hopefully, the poor lad will win the lady’s heart soon, not that we are holding our breaths for it.

The Galadhrim brothers in Lord Celeborn’s retinue took charge of showing our little Arwen about Lorien as this is the very first time Arwen visited Lorien. Not liking the adoring looks Arwen is sending Haldir’s way. Elrond should be wary if she asks for private archery lessons with him. We still can recall that after-training incident with Glorfindel… Thankfully, skinny little dark-haired ellith were never our captain’s type. According to Erestor, the good captain prefers them tall, broad and blond. I believe the twins will put a stop to any nonsense from Haldir. They are, after all, Glorfindel’s students and can beat up any wood elf blindfolded.

Lorien has changed much since my last time here. What’s with the telain? Everyone is in a talan now. My former quarters have been converted into a stable. Apparently after the mallorn trees reached maturity, the good folk of the realm thought it would be great to put their homes among their branches. Methinks the dearly departed King Amdir would have been thrilled to see how his tree-hut idea really took off. I do not climb trees well and no one thought to tell me to bring along leggings. Robes are great for ceremonies but not climbing up ladders, especially with a wind picking up. Try climbing up one with the Galadhrim laughing and pointing at your ass. Then Lord Elrond tells me there are large baskets we could ride up? Well, at least Galadriel and the ladies get to keep their robes neat and tidy.

So we are stuck up a tree in a large but flimsy-looking talan… I am bunking on the lower tier with Glorfindel and the twins while Elrond shares the upper one with his wife and daughter. Despite Lady Galadriel’s reassurances to the structural stability of her guest-talan… Arwen, please! Stop jumping up and down!

* * *

 

  _Lothlorien, Laire, T.A. 270_

Dear Journal

I am utterly gobsmacked by the recklessness of the Nandor when it comes to their guests. Apparently, Haldir thought it would be a terrific idea to play a game of blind-man’s buff with the Peredhil while their elders are talking shop with Lord Celeborn. I wonder whose idea the single-rope bridge over the Celebrant is. Actually, the twins and Arwen were doing great on the rope, until someone decided to up the ante by hauling on it. That was when Elladan and Elrohir ended up in the water. Arwen managed to hold onto the rope but she was not a happy trooper. Thankfully, the river was not in flood and the twins are strong swimmers. They were not too happy either.

Celeborn and Glorfindel had to break up a free-for-all. Welcome to hour-long lecture by His Lordship to the young ones. Haldir and his brothers will never make marchwarden at this rate if they insist on conducting themselves like elflings. Why did I need to sit in on it too? Glorfindel took the twins aside to teach them some wrestling moves after that lecture. The next time those Galadhrim rile the twins, they better watch out.

Arwen is getting a stern rebuke from her grandmother- it is unbecoming for a young lady to beat someone about the head with a tree-branch. No one seems particularly bothered the twins and Arwen almost drowned thanks to Haldir’s mischief. At least Arwen does not seem too keen on Haldir now. 

* * *

 

_Lothlorien, Laire, T.A. 270_

Dear Journal

The _Lay of Leithian_ should be never be sung in the presence of impressionable iells, ever. Since Arwen’s birth, Lindir has refrained from singing the ballad in the Hall of Fire for fear of upsetting Lady Celebrian and thus incurring Elrond’s wrath. However, the bards of Lady Galadriel’s retinue have no such qualms. In fact, the _Lay_ is a favourite of Lady Galadriel despite the fact her elder brother dies a heroic but horrible death in that ill-starred quest. In less formal circumstances, the lady has been known to merrily sing along for Finrod’s gruesome demise. Apparently having a beloved sibling turned into a werewolf chew-toy is nothing but a joke to her. Perhaps Finrod was not her favourite sibling as the histories claim but I digress.

Little Arwen is moved by the ballad such that she asked me if she would meet her Beren one day. Some things were never meant to be shared with one’s nana and ada. But dear Melpomaen? Sure, go ahead and dump on me. Ai Valar! I have not been in such a spot since the twins dropped their breeches in front of me and demanded to know if their willies were too small. Never, ever compare with Glorfindel should you chance to encounter him in the baths. That ellon could make a stallion feel inadequate. I know it is hard to ignore given his propensity for post-bath calisthenics. Get some clothes on first, elf! Back to the story- Arwen gets curious about Men. It’s not like we can hop over to the nearest house of ill-repute... Well, technically we could but then Lady Galadriel will find a nice spider’s nest to toss me into. Where’re Lord Elrond’s anatomy texts when you need them?

Tried my best to dissuade Arwen by informing her the Second-born are smelly, sickly and stupid. Reminded her of the last drunken riot in Imladris when the princes of Gondor over-indulged in the Dorwinion wine. Then I got carried away saying that any child born to such a union would be a retard as evidenced by what happened with Elros’ dynasty in Numenor. Lord Elrond overheard me. I quite forgot my master has Mannish blood in his veins and he was not amused. I have been banished from the guest-talan and assigned to share quarters with the Galadhrim.

I do wish Rumil would hang his socks and small-clothes elsewhere instead of above my cot.

* * *

 

_Lothlorien, Laire, T.A. 270_

Dear Journal

Drinking Dorwinion wine with Celeborn and Galadriel is one experience I doubt anyone wishes to repeat ever. Everything was going along fine at the farewell banquet, until Celeborn decided to break out the Dorwinion wine his kinsman Thranduil sent over. That was when everything started heading south. The twins tried to out-drink each other and passed out at the table. Lady Celebrian had gone off earlier to put Arwen to bed. They were lucky they were not there to see or hear what happened next.

Lady Galadriel got drunk and maudlin, bemoaning the trials of the Exiles. She started cursing her brother Finrod for beguiling her such that she agreed to a political match with a milk-sop of a Sinda. Finrod tried his luck courting Luthien but she got tired of being compared to Amarie. Not to mention dear adar Thingol was threatening to gut Finrod like a fish. Celeborn is the perfect nobleman but perfection can be boring after an Age. It was charming at first but she was literally bored to death of the flowers, poetry and silly boat-rides. Note- Finrod was lousy when it came to relationship advice. We all know about Aegnor and his Andreth.  She thought she would be a queen among the Sindar and Exiles but Lord Celeborn was one to run away in the face of trouble, as in Eregion when the populace got a tad surly. If she had known his response was flight to Imladris, she would have wedded a warrior-elf instead of a weak princeling.

Celeborn tried to bear with his wife’s tirade the best he could, but even he has his limits. He reminded Galadriel of the time in Eregion where she was dallying with a certain master smith, and the time she was locking lips with a certain Annatar on the balcony. Galadriel vehemently denied the incident with Annatar. She retorted that her friendship with nephew Celebrimbor was better than his horseplay with his retinue of blond young ellyn. Haldir and company turned as white as sheets here. Apparently they were not that drunk. The pair almost came to blows and had to be restrained. Elrond, Glorfindel and I grabbed hold of Galadriel while the Galadhrim held Celeborn back. We do not need more Kinslayings.

Lord Celeborn called his wife an upstart bitch and said that he wedded her only for her pretty silver and gold tresses. At this Galadriel declares she was going to shave her tresses off and hand them to a dwarf. After which she stormed off. Glorfindel went after her while Lord Elrond tried to repair the damage done to the august pair’s reputation by insisting everyone was having a mass hallucination from the wine. Celeborn passed out at this juncture and had to be carted off by his retinue. On the upside, I get to return to the guest talan after helping my master carry the twins back. Glorfindel has not returned yet. Celeborn is probably sleeping it off at Haldir’s while Galadriel cools her temper… Hopefully everyone will forget last night’s unpleasantness.

Holy Manwe! Tell me I did not just see Glorfindel leaving Lady Galadriel’s talan dressed only in his breeches. Maybe the lady does prefer warrior-types. Perhaps it is a good thing we are leaving for Imladris soon. I hope Erestor does not make use of our absence to seize control of the Last Homely House…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Telain - plural of talan? 
> 
> Some things were not fit to be recorded in the official history. Galadriel is just venting her frustrations on not having a realm to rule over like her brothers and cousins. Unfortunately Celeborn gets the flak.


	12. Of Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Elrond is not invited to the celebrations at the restored Minas Anor. Erestor receives devastating news from Mithlond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of the suggested family relations for Erestor or Glorfindel are canon.

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 421_

Dear Journal

What chance to have found you whilst cleaning out the storeroom! I despaired of finding you since you went missing upon our return from Lorien. Also recovered a very mature bottle of Lorien wine and Arwen’s old doll (Celebrian had to send a runner to Mithlond to request a replacement from the toymaker before he sailed), she has outgrown that now. Life goes on as usual in Imladris, not that I am boasting or anything but this Chamberlain post really suits me. Leave the messy diplomatic wrangling and trade agreements to Erestor. I am happy just to ensure the household and guests have hot water in the baths, delicious meals and clean linens on their beds.

We are all one big happy household – the family, Captain Glorfindel, Erestor, Lindir and me. The other elves come and go, many to sail west. Gildor Inglorion and his troop have been visiting every few rounds of the Sun, normally about winter so as to better make use of my Lord Elrond’s hospitality. Late this year, the troop showed up with a request to stay until the Elven New Year. I do not begrudge them our hospitality. Constant travel can be trying, even for an Elf. Also, we love the friendly rivalry between the minstrels over the Yule carolling.

Utterly horrified to learn that whilst passing through Gondor a couple months back in summer, the troop had witnessed a big celebration thrown in honour of the newly-rebuilt Minas Anor by King Ostoher. We did not even receive an invitation to the festivities? We have hosted your delegations and our lord might be counted as a distant uncle of sorts. You would not even be here if Glorfindel had not been there to save your forefather’s neck in that nasty skirmish during the Battle of the Last Alliance. Wait, I think I do remember you… that snivelling little prat hiding behind his nurse’s skirts when his dear dad visited Imladris some years back. I recall Elladan mistook you for a princess.

Erestor similarly irked by the oversight. Lindir could not care less as long as Gildor shares some of the new songs from the south they picked up in Gondor. Elrond taking it quite well - he has gone to his study to pen a congratulatory note. Glorfindel? He has this mysterious grin on his face. When the Valar sent him back, they gave him some gifts, among which is foresight. Will not be too surprised if an earthquake happens about Minas Anor shortly. The good captain’s not telling.

Lady Arwen outraged on her ada’s behalf. Saw her heading off towards the armoury where our captain stopped her. Glorfindel murmured something to her along the lines of a bigger party in that fancy new city thrown in her honour in the future. That seemed to both calm and amuse her greatly. Bloody vengeance forgotten, she returned to her needlework under her nana’s instruction. 

* * *

 

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 430_

Dear Journal

Never expected to see Erestor crack like that. News came from Mithlond that his naneth has finally made up her mind to sail. Our poor advisor is near inconsolable to learn that the missive was delayed due to bad weather and the ship has sailed, leaving him with opportunity to bid her farewell or mend their bridges. Glorfindel, Lindir and I sat up with him over a few tankards while he rambled on about his naneth.

Ada was a Feanorian smith who sailed from Valinor. Nana was the only daughter of a Sinda elleth and a Noldo who came with Nolofinwe’s Host over the ice, wedded in defiance of Eldar tradition during the Siege. Nana lived in Dorthonion with her parents until Dagor Bragalloch. During the chaos which followed, she ended up at Himring with no news of her parents’ fate. That was where Erestor’s parents met and wed before they had to flee for Amon Ereb where he was born. The family stuck together until the Second Kinslaying when his naneth fell out with his ada and left for the Isle of Balar. He was asked to follow her but he refused. She has never spoken to him directly since. His adar got killed by some orcs later, well before the Kinslaying at Sirion. Yes, he was there. Maedhros was crazy enough to threaten potential deserters with a slow painful death by then and we all know Erestor loves life. 

The rift between mother and son remained throughout the Second Age. Erestor tried to seek her in Lindon where she was a cook in Gil-galad’s household but she refused to meet him. In the years since the Last Alliance, it was only fairly recently that she had deigned to reply to his letters, no doubt at Cirdan’s behest. Apparently, she was all set to remain in Mithlond as Cirdan’s housekeeper until Arda is Unmade as she has no desire to encounter her spouse in Aman once she heard the Doom of the Exiles have been lifted. The call of the sea eventually won out.

Lord Cirdan has a new valet now. Some young elf called Galdor who Cirdan claims is a first cousin of Erestor’s on his mother’s side… Wait, wasn’t Erestor’s naneth an only child? Perhaps I should cross out that bit about Galdor to protect Erestor’s feelings, though I think it is clear to someone as smart as him what his nana has been up to whilst in service in Lindon. We can’t choose family.

Glorfindel tossed in his piece about being related to the High King Turgon by marriage and possibly blood ties. Vehemently denies any participation in the First Kinslaying back in Valinor. We spent the rest of the night listening to his amusing tales of life in Tirion where he grew up and in Gondolin before the fall. It was a bit of an embarrassment for his nana’s family as his ada was so far down the social ladder in Tirion, King Finwe had to create a new title for him to get clearance to wed before the baby came. His parents are now in Valinor. His adar never working up the courage to leave to start with and his naneth having sailed back after the War of Wrath with her brother Arafinwe. Hold, now you are jesting for sure… What a whooper!

Well, at least you made Erestor smile. I guess you know what you are doing, Captain.

That yarn about a young Galadriel snipping off Maedhros’ hair whilst he was in deep reverie on a dare by Finrod had me in stitches too. Then she trotted up to her uncle with his son’s hair and asked him to help fix it onto her new doll… Suddenly I see the family resemblance between the Arwen and her grandmother. We still have that doll with Glorfindel’s hair in the old nursery, don’t we?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Tolkien had the Eldar as monogamous, no sex outside marriage types. I am going out on a limb here by suggesting that that is Tolkien's projection of his upbringing and beliefs on the matter. I prefer to show the Eldar with a more human, sinning side. 
> 
> Some foresight from Glorfindel on the events in the late Third Age with regards to Minas Anor (later Minas Tirith) and Arwen.


	13. Erestor to Sail?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erestor thinks of leaving Middle Earth. The household tries to dissuade him.

_Imladris, Coire, T.A. 490_

Dear Journal

After giving his careful consideration to the matter for the greater part of a century, Erestor has made his decision with regards to sailing for Aman. He has been dithering over it since his naneth left without giving him a chance to mend his ties with her. He has also been trying to train Lindir as his replacement seeing I have no interest in trade pacts or diplomatic talks beyond keeping Imladris well-stocked and in order. Glorfindel and I spent the night trying to talk Erestor out of his decision to no avail. Lindir is great with the harp, but he lacks the ruthless instinct and shrewdness which makes Erestor such an asset at any negotiation. Elbereth! Did you hear how he swop Lord Elrond’s best milk-cow for a handful of ‘magic’ beans? Lucky thing Elrohir was able to catch that crooked trader at the tavern and retrieve Daffodil.

Poor Lindir still thinks his beans will grow into butterflies. He has been watering that pot for a week now with nothing to show for it but weeds. Seriously, I think his nana dropped him on his head too often when he was a wee elfling. He’s got his head stuck up in whatever reverie-cloud he is on. Elrond is already training his sons but they still have a long way before they can advise their own adar. I understand from Glorfindel that being family can seriously impair one’s judgement when advising a parent.

Things have been quiet for a while apart from the infrequent orc attacks which provide a suitable diversion for Glorfindel and his warriors. Ties with Arnor and Gondor stable for most part. Elrond has been sending out letters of friendship to Khazad-dum and the Greenwood. Oddly, the Dwarves are responsive but not Thranduil. However, the Dwarves are eager for trade but not formal diplomacy. Ties with neighbours closer to Imladris good. This possibly in large part thanks to Lord Elrond’s benevolence and skill as a healer. The children have grown up and little need of a tutor. Lady Arwen taking lessons from her grandma in Lorien at the moment and not expected back home for the next few years at least. Overall, Erestor is right in concluding this is a good time for him to pass on the reins of advisor, save for the dismal state of his potential successor.

“Well, that’s your problem, not mine…” Erestor says. Well, we think that is a poor way of repaying Lord Elrond’s kindness through the years. Between the Lord and the Lady, they would have given Imladris over to the poor mortals and Dwarves. Really, they are benevolent to a fault. The treasury would have long been emptied by their Gondorian and Arnorian royal kin with nary a coin to spare. Mortals can be such greedy, selfish beings once they set their minds to it.

Master Erestor is not ready to sail.

Even Glorfindel agrees with me on that count. Lord Elrond does not have it in his heart to deny his request to leave. Glorfindel tries to discourage him by describing the perils of the sea, which he claimed to have personally encountered when sailing to Middle Earth. That succeed in persuading some elves who were thinking of leaving for Mithlond to postpone their travel plans indefinitely, but not Erestor. Apparently, Erestor is not as faint of heart as we’d like to think.

I shudder to think that without our advisor, Imladris might not see the end of this Age. In an uncharacteristic move of sneakiness, Glorfindel has gone so far as to remove the shoes from Erestor’s horse to delay his departure. I hope no repercussions arise from him getting the local smith drunk and locking him in the privy.

Wait, is that Erestor firing up the forge? Oh, right… he’s a Noldo and son of a Feanorian smith. Too bad, Fin. Nice try all the same.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 490_

Dear Journal

Disaster! After a couple centuries’ usage, the common baths have finally given up the collective ghost. Water is knee-deep in the cellars now and rising. Understand from Elladan that the dwarf plumber they called in is going to charge Elrond an arm and a leg, and maybe both sons into perpetual slavery in the Dwarven mines. Celebrian went to ask Erestor nicely if he would help negotiate a more reasonable price. Erestor simply shrugged and said he was going to quit Imladris within the sennight and would not be around to oversee the repairs. Hence there was no call for him to interfere in this household matter.

Well, I went to speak with the plumber only to find the twins sheepishly unclogging the drains. Yep, it was a desperate last-ditch attempt to stop Erestor from leaving. The damage to the flooded cellars and ruined stores still remain though. Lord Elrond is not amused and the twins have the pleasure of cleaning out the muck and ruined grain from the cellars.

Meanwhile, our royal guest Durin is quite amused by his part in the ploy. He did concede that the boys are far too tall to work in his kingdom’s tunnels. Still, he did suggest some improvements to the drainage system to prevent another flood in the cellars. I guess he is a fine chap for a dwarf, if only he will restrain his friends from eating us out of house and home.

Wait, is he teaching the twins some obscure form of sign-language? I sincerely hope they did not just flash some rude sign at me.

_(Elladan and Elrohir sign the phrase – Figwit is a stick-in-the-mud prig.)_

* * *

 

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 490_

Dear Journal

Lord Elrond has received a letter from his Mannish kin in Gondor with troubling news. There has been an encroachment of Easterlings on their borders and after a time of relative peace, the Gondorians are in no state for dealing with a well-equipped, organized force. Lord Elrond has been beseeched to send aid in the form of gold to equip the Gondorian army. An additional note suggests that military aid is not required of the Eldar, especially if led by a certain golden-haired ellon. I guess they still recall the last time Captain Glorfindel was knocking about Minas Anor with his boys on that diplomatic jaunt. For your information, I do not pry into my master’s correspondence. It is just my duty to make copies for the library archives in Lindir’s stead whilst our scribe is mourning his now-confirmed dead ‘magic’ beans.

Elrond is disturbed enough by the news to seek Erestor’s advice only to have his former tutor snub him in favour of one last roast goose dinner before going to Mithlond where they are said to serve fish morning, noon and night. Imladris’ coffers lack the gold requested. In lieu of that, Elrond has decided to send tents and a troop of elves under Glorfindel’s command to Gondor. Those are the bright party tents we used for the elflings’ begetting day parties, with the large bull’s eye painted on them by Arwen for her archery games. Let’s give that to King Ostoher and convince him that Glorfindel did not mean to toss a spear his way the last time he visited Minas Anor in T.A. 465. This does not bode well for Imladris’ relations with the South kingdom.

I would suggest to Lord Elrond that he forget he ever received the letter from Gondor and leave it to dear old Ostoher and his sons to deal with his own problems. The boy needs to toughen up instead of hiding behind his distant uncle whenever danger comes knocking.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 490_

Dear Journal

It is the oddest thing. After seeming to have his mind set on sailing, Erestor announced this morning that he is staying in Imladris until Lord Elrond sails. He was a bit pale and shaky. He flatly refuses to discuss what had brought about this change of heart. On the upside, he has given advice to Lord Elrond to hold off sending aid for a bit to allow the Gondorians to fight their own battles with the Easterlings. It would seem that this will be a long-term problem for them and they may as well start learning to deal with it now. No troops we could not spare or ridiculous tents.

Lord Elrond very surprised by his advisor’s change of heart but Lady Celebrian is looking very pleased. She asked me to prepare a special picnic hamper and bring it to the stable tack-room after breakfast as a thank-you to a distant uncle for persuading Erestor to stay. It is to be a secret as her uncle would not want anyone kicking up a fuss. I wonder who it is as I know most of the lady’s uncles still in Middle-Earth are in Lorien or Mithlond.

Found that tramp of an elf snoring in the tack-room. Phew, I never knew an elf could stink so badly.  Really tempted to evict him from the stables but he might just be that mysterious uncle we are so indebted to. Judging from that harp he has, he would seem to be a minstrel. I guess some bards like hoofing it alone instead of as part of a travelling troupe. I wonder what he might have said to Erestor to make him change his mind. Oddly for an elf, he has the beginnings of a beard and the only recorded instances of bearded elves are Lord Cirdan and Mahtan the smith, grandfather to the Feanorions…

Nay, it’s not possible. Maglor the Kinslayer would not dare trespass on any Elven realm. Maglor or not, I do wish he would pay some much-needed attention to his personal cleanliness. According to my lady’s instructions, I was to just leave it there on the ground and her uncle will take care of the rest. The empty hamper was duly returned to the kitchens by tea-time unnoticed and the mysterious tramp gone from the stables.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Durin V(?) is forming a fast friendship with Imladris. Leaving it open as to how Celebrian's 'uncle' persuaded Erestor to continue working for Lord Elrond instead of sailing.


	14. A-Roaming We Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Elrond takes his sons out camping in the wilds. A reluctant Figwit is dragged along and he is not too thrilled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the demands of being an elven lord gets too much and Elrond wants to get away for a while. A cameo by Tom Bombadil.

_Imladris I wish, Laire, T.A. 620_

Dear Journal

My apologies for dragging you out of Imladris but I find the need to record my experiences to make sense of them and retain some semblance of sanity in my current circumstances.

It is official. I am no outdoorsman and quit trying to make one of me. I don’t like tramping about the countryside and sleeping under the stars. I don’t like taking icy dips. I don’t like snakes, spiders and other creepy-crawlers. No, Elladan, those fire-beetles did not warm my bedroll, and aren’t you too old for such pranks now? The journey between Imladris and Lorien was torture as it is. At least we can be assured of a nice warm bath, hot food and a nice feather bed at the end of it. I don’t see why we have to go camping in some creepy old forest for weeks on end. I am no wood-elf but I swear the trees here are telling us to go away.

This whole ‘scouting’ mission was Lord Elrond’s idea as he thought we should investigate some reports of a possible Avari tribe in these parts. Why can’t we leave that to Gildor Inglorion and his band? One might think Lord Elrond wants to get away from his duties back home. We have been in this clearing for three days already given his lame horse. And no sign of any other Elves. Erestor so owes me for consenting to take his place on this outing. Arwen wanted to come along too but Lady Celebrian forbade it as she feared it would be too dangerous for a young elleth out in the wilds. 

Thus far, the only dangers we have encountered are the bugs and snakes. Elrond has the boys collecting samples of the plants and insects for study. Methinks he hopes to add some more lore on the fauna and flora of Arda to the library back home. We have two extra ponies laden with the specimen jars and Elrohir’s nature studies.  Elrohir proving himself a deft hand with a brush… especially when the big snake you are holding for him to capture in watercolours is trying its utmost to choke you. It makes my skin crawl just thinking… _(inkblot)_

_(Figwit leaps off his bedroll having discovered that in addition to the fire-beetles, the twins have added a grass snake to it just for laughs.)_

* * *

 

 

_Not-Imladris, Laire, T.A. 620_

Dear Journal

Awoke this morning to splashing sounds and the sight of four naked elves splashing in the river, just before the twins thought it would be jolly good fun to dunk me in, bedroll and all. I will never look at Lord Elrond the same way again. No elf his age should have such fine muscles and those broad shoulders. Definitely from his Mannish ancestors, even though an Adan his age would long be dust in some grave. Doom is not fair- I can just picture his forefathers Tuor and Earendil making the ladies in Valinor go gaga (at least they have been spoken for, like Elrond). I shudder to think of the chaos in Valinor when the boys sail. Neither have shown an inkling for settling anytime this Age.

Lord Elrond seems younger somehow on this trip. I’ve never seen my lord smile so much or laugh so often. He’s always so grim-faced back in Imladris. Lord Elrond actually sang around the fire and played the harp. We didn’t bring much lembas, if any. Lord Elrond was in favour of living off whatever game and berries we can find. The twins had a crash-course in identification of edible berries, shoots and roots. Elladan was sick for a bit when he mistook some black nightshade berries for blackberries. We are lucky we snared several hares and the river here is rich with trout. Wait, you mean that fish-trap was taught to you and Elros by Cirdan back in the Havens? Who taught you the rabbit snare – Maglor? Forget I asked.    

Well, the stars do seem brighter here and the air is fresher. Fresh fish grilled over a campfire is absolutely yummy. Ah, this is the life… No! I refuse to buy into this entire camping thing. I want my hot bath. I want my feather bed. I wanna go home to Imladris! 

* * *

 

 

_Still away from Imladris, Laire, T.A. 620_

Dear Journal

Met another soul in the forest (that’s not a bug, bird or beast). A strange creature that goes by the name Tom Bombadil. Jolly company really. His song’s mostly nonsense but it does make one chuckle. We shared bread by the fire and a merry song before he took off downriver. Good luck to him with his courting someone’s daughter. I for one will be highly reluctant to have mine associating with such a dubious character.   

Glorfindel and Elrond having a discussion as to if this Tom is an Elf, Dwarf or Man or something altogether. Elrond was pondering the possibility of a mix between the Edain and Durin’s folk, while Glorfindel says there are more things in Arda than we are aware of and it would not be so queer if Bombadil does not fall into any of the categories Elrond has listed. The twins suggested Maia, which is beyond ridiculous. Then they came up with the possibility of Elf-Dwarf hybrids. Mercy! You’ll giving me nightmares. Of course, having embarked on this twisted path of thought, the boys started painting a picture of what the offspring of an Elf and a Dwarf would look like. Don’t ask me how big hairy feet came into it. Even Glorfindel was starting to get disturbed by the speculations.

Lord Elrond reminded us that some unions are possible under the Doom if for a greater good, as in the case of his grandparents, though I am hard pressed to think of any good resulting from an Elf-Dwarf union. I pity the luckless elleth who ends up with a Dwarf husband. I am not aware of the existence of Dwarf-females although Durin mentioned that they do exist, well, somewhere.

* * *

 

 

_Imladris finally, Yavie, T.A. 620_

Dear Journal

Praise be to Lord Manwe. We have returned to Imladris, and not a moment too soon. Our luck has held out and we did not encounter any orcs, trolls or wargs in our wanderings but hanging about foreign parts into winter is pushing it too far, methinks.  

The boys brought home some flower specimens from the south for their nana and little sister. Elrond had purchased some pretty glass and metal containers from a Dwarf peddler to hold these delicate plants so that he may better study them in Imladris. We found a plant with seed pods which impart a delicate flavour to tea when added to boiling water. Elrond hopes to cultivate the plant in our gardens so that the cook may explore the possibility of using the pods to flavour cakes and other pastries.

Erestor nearly in tears at the number of specimens and journals Lord Elrond and sons have compiled and collected between them over the past months on their camping trip. Enjoy yourself cataloguing and sorting through the samples and notes. I am sure our lord will join you, after he is done catching up with his wife in their bedroom. That is really going to put a damper on Erestor’s plans to take that cute new Elf-maid out moon-viewing by the waterfall pool.

I am heartily sick of rabbit, berries and fish. Gimme a nice plump roast goose for dinner. Lamb chops are also good, pass the mint sauce. I am never so glad to have the use of the heated common baths, even if I have to share them with half-dozen guards and stable hands, Glorfindel doing his nude calisthenics routine and the twins splashing water all over the place.   

The next time Lord Elrond or anyone asks, no. I am not leaving Imladris to go roaming the wilds ever again. This elf is staying home till it’s his time to sail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It would figure that as a loremaster and scholar in his own right, Elrond would be interested in the flora and fuana of distant parts. As a healer, he would be interested in the healing properties of plants and their possible uses. 
> 
> Not too clear on which forests or places the party roamed- I doubt Figwit would be inclined to record the exact locations. They definitely passed through Tom's country (the Old Forest in the Later Third Age).


	15. Matchmaking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Celebrian attempts to keep her daughter with the Elves by engineering a match with an Elven lord. How many suitable Elf-lords are there left in Middle Earth? Arwen is not pleased.

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 835_

Dear Journal

As Lady Arwen enters her sixth century of life, there is mounting but unfounded concern on her mother’s part with regards to her state of spinsterhood. Yes, six hundred is a good age for a young elleth to consider settling down but I could not help sensing fair Arwen is meant for far greater things than that snivelling milk-sop Amroth or being shut up in some gloomy forest. Lord Elrond is of the same view as me on that account, which resulted in a rare scene at dinner. You did not have to fling the vanilla pudding across the table at your husband, Celebrian. Things in the household tense as we await the replies to the Lady’s invite to the various Elven lords to come court her daughter.  

Erestor is of the opinion that none of the proposed suitors would be forthcoming. King Amroth is still courting his fair wood-elf Nim-what’s-her-name (he has my vote for sheer persistence). Lord Cirdan is way too old for Arwen. Eru! He was babysitting her grandfather when he was a youngster in Sirion. As for Thranduil, he has not replied to any of Lord Elrond’s attempts to mend the rift with Greenwood. It is unlikely he would consider Arwen as a bride. In fact, the only contact we have had thus far from the Greenwood elves is when they use our messengers for target-practice. Understand from the boys that the standard means of communication is to pin the letter to a tree and run like the blazes before you find an arrow in you. It is little wonder Lord Elrond is reluctant to entrust his daughter to such barbarians. 

Gildor Inglorion could have some standing as Finrod’s foster-son and one-time heir to Nagothrond, before Orodreth sought refuge with his uncle and was instated as heir. Personally, I feel Gildor would be good catch for any elleth, save for certain rumours regarding his preferences (cough, cough). Anyhow, as his current whereabouts are unknown, the lady had nowhere to send him an invite.

Needless to say, Lady Arwen not exactly thrilled by her naneth’s plans. She is currently in her chamber being consoled by her brothers. Due to shortage of suitable high-born ellyth in this current Age on these shores, no one has had the nerve to urge the twins settle lest they wed a kitchen maid or worse, some Mannish lass.

For once, Lord Elrond is sleeping in the study not by choice after his lady barred their chamber door against him. The four of us household ellyn - Erestor, Glorfindel, Lindir and me - ended up drinking with him and gossiping about naneths, ellyth and marriage late into the night. Save for Elrond, all of us are single and without any offspring. In Elrond’s case, it was Celebrian who initiated the pursuit. If she had been like any demure maid, Lord Elrond would still be single and stuck with only his books for company. I will not write down what we spoke of, even if the ensuing hangover did not banish the memory from my mind. Glorfindel has stated he would hang me from the rafters by my heels if I ever told of that incident back in fallen Gondolin with a punt, a mandolin and airborne footwear… Was that ballad supposed to sound like a tomcat in heat?

_(Figwit yelps as he is dragged out of his armchair by an irate Glorfindel who promptly fulfils his threat by hoisting Figwit up by his heels to the ceiling.)_

* * *

 

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 835_

Dear Journal

Arwen making plans to hit the road when Gildor’s band passes through but they are a little late this year. The dwarves declined to allow her to join their band on account of their friendship with her parents. Elladan forestalled her earlier attempt to depart Imladris as part of the visiting Arnorian delegation disguised as a maidservant last week. Things getting a bit testy for the Arnorians as the princes don’t like each other that much. Earendur is still good to go for a few more decades but all bets are off afterwards. My Lord has stated clearly that he will not support any claimant to Arnor’s crown save that which Earendur has named as successor. Elladan was there to oversee their departure after someone was caught trying to break into the Imladris treasury in search of Narsil’s shards. We also relieved the prince’s servants of several priceless Numenorean relics entrusted to Imladris over the centuries by Isildur’s line.  

The first of the replies to Celebrian’s invites came in this morning from Lord Cirdan. Lord Cirdan declined to leave Mithlond and strongly advises Elrond against forcing the issue of his daughter’s marriage for political gains. It was Elrohir who received Galdor at the gate and he read the Shipwright’s letter aloud at breakfast table for all to hear. I will dispense with the archaic phrases and obscure references to a creepy boatload of cats. News has reached Cirdan of the end of the disastrous diplomatic union of Gondor’s king and a certain high-born lady of Black Numenorean descent. Well, Elrond did try to advise his distant nephew against the match, but no, someone had to go ahead with wedding some girl he has nothing in common with. It is greatly feared that the unhappiness of the couple would translate into trouble in Umbar.

Lord Cirdan is of the opinion that marriage should never be rushed into without careful consideration of the personalities and feelings of the persons involved. He also deems Celeborn’s union with Galadriel over-hasty although they bump along fine in spite of the occasional spat. Celeborn has always been tolerant and accommodating of his lady’s whims. In the event Elrond deems it part of Doom that Arwen should wed now, he would recommend a prince of mild temper and high tolerance, namely Amroth, on condition he has feelings for Arwen in return. Unions between the Elves are until the end of time and should last thus long. Hm, I wonder if this is why Lord Cirdan never wedded. Perhaps Galdor might tell in exchange for some miruvor.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 835_

Dear Journal

The household received a letter of rebuke from Lorien. Lady Galadriel is horrified to hear of the news and firmly forbade her daughter from meddling in Arwen’s love-life. This time, it was Erestor who received the Eagle who was entrusted with the letter. He would have sent it sooner but he was distracted by a strange ship of cats off Gondor. To Eagles, cats apparently go well sun-baked with sea salt. Rich pickings, our avian friend attested. I would have appreciated it more if he had not dropped a dead cat on the parlour rug as an apology for the delay. No, it will not taste better baked in salt.

The gist of it is that Amroth never got the letter from Celebrian as Celeborn screens through his king’s mail. Both grandparents are of the view that Arwen is destined for more than that whinny excuse of a king they have in Lorien. Celeborn would recommend his kinsman Thranduil save for his kinsman’s animosity for all things Noldor on account of the losses suffered by his people... Oh, get over it already. The Last Alliance was almost a millennium ago! After careful consultation of the genealogical records of the Noldor noble houses, Galadriel has come to the sad conclusion that the male lineage of Finarfin’s House died with Gil-galad and that only her family remains. The lineage of Nolofinwe cumulated with Elrond’s house. Of the Feanorions, none of their kin exist upon these shores, the last being Celebrimbor. Maglor might be drifting about, if he’s alive, but he’s married to some poor lady back in Valinor and there is no way Imladris will agree to Arwen having a Kinslayer as spouse.

At this point, Celebrian openly offered her little girl’s hand to Glorfindel. The captain fiercely declined, claiming his heart is already bound to another in Aman although they have yet to complete the rites. He then sang praises of his beloved’s dark tresses, smiling eyes and talent on the flute. You liar… we all know you like them big and blond. Celebrian tossed a fit and stormed off. Elrond clapped his captain on the shoulder and asked if he would consider it wise to send Arwen to her grandparents in Lorien while Celebrian works through her list of potential law-sons.

Count me in too. I need sanctuary until this mess blows over.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 835_

Dear Journal

We received a reply from King Thranduil of the Greenwood. His Majesty states that he taken a wife from the Silvan-folk and is happily married. Is there a chance that any heir born to them in the coming years might be considered for Lady Arwen’s husband? It is the Silvan tradition that ellyth wed young (within their second century of life) and he voices his concerns that Arwen would be considered too old for a woodland bride even now. Given that they say the life expectation of a woodland elfling is a thousand years or so, most of us here in Imladris will be ancient now. It might help if an early death by orc, warg and spider was not the norm for the wood-elves since the First Age.

Lady Arwen has been sent to Lorien in the company of her brothers and Glorfindel for the summer. It is just as well as I doubt her temper will take kindly to being referred to by Thranduil as an old maid. Elrond busy with yet another princely delegation from Arnor seeking his support. Erestor handling the talks to ensure the Elves of Imladris remain neutral as far as possible. Elrond throwing his support behind Earendur’s will did not sit well with the princes, as evidenced by Gildor’s band getting roughed up in northeast Arnor or rather roughing their men up… Well, Gildor was diplomatic until they tried to smash his harp. Never mess with an Elven bard’s harp. Most of the roughing up was done by a bearded Elf-bard wielding a mean cudgel who joined their band for a bit.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 835_

Dear Journal

I am pleased to announce that after much persuasion by Lord Elrond, Celebrian has dropped all plans of seeking out a law-son at this point. She’s not too happy though as she has been plagued by some ominous dream of Arwen choosing the Gift of Man. Also she has been bothered by some premonition that she will not be attending that wedding when Arwen finally finds her soul-mate (mortal or otherwise).

To cheer his lady up, Elrond has allowed her the luxury of commissioning some pieces of jewellery for their daughter’s trousseau. I have had the pleasure of looking over the designs so far – a mithril, diamond and pearl bird pendant, a sapphire star brooch and an emerald and gold ivy ring. The prices quoted by the jewel-smiths, however, might just send Elrond to take ship to Valinor.

Erestor has gladly offered to handle the haggling part of the purchase. Our advisor has appealed to the pride of the Elf-smiths by questioning if their craftsmanship is on par with Durin’s folk. As a case in example, he produced a ring he claimed was of Dwarvish-make bought from a peddler. The workmanship is remarkable with its mix of Dwarvish and Elvish elements and of the highest skill but it is no work of a common smith. The Elf was a grandson of Feanor and the ring was presented to Lady Galadriel before she left Eregion. Given the questionable propriety of giving such a gift to a married elleth, Celebrimbor wisely forwent putting his mark on it. Don’t know how Erestor came to be in possession of it. The image of a half-naked Erestor frolicking about with Elrond’s law-mother suddenly comes to mind… Ugh…

Erestor then murmured something along the lines of sending the designs to Khazad-dum to be crafted.  The elf-smiths were stung of course and offered to craft the jewels at the cost of their raw materials only. Erestor whips out the contractual agreement for the poor sods to sign. Celebrian has already selected the jewels to be used from the household treasury and Elrond has a suitable amount of gold, silver and mithril in his stores. No chance of jacking up the prices for transport fees. Erestor has reluctantly added a clause for additional payments to be made for workmanship at Lord Elrond’s insistence. A dozen weeping smiths will tug at anyone’s conscience, save Erestor’s I suppose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have dropped hints on the coming split of Arnor and the tale of Gondor's Queen Beruthiel. Elrond is trying to adopt a hands-off approach with regards to Arnor and Gondor as far as possible. Galadriel and Elrond probably has some inkling about Arwen's destiny, hence their disapproval.


	16. Shifting Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All's calm in Elrond's Rivendell but things are not going well for the North Kingdom. Who is that mysterious elf tramp wintering at Rivendell?

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 861_

Dear Journal

All has been peaceful in the little oasis of Imladris over the past decades. Sadly the same cannot be said for our Mannish associates. Lord Elrond may not show it but he is much aggrieved by news from Fornost Erain that despite all efforts to reconcile the princes, civil war has erupted ere the old king’s bones grow cold. I say, it was hard enough managing royal visitors from two kingdoms – but now Arnor is split into three separate realms? Merciful Eru! Forgive my blasphemy but Lord Elrond’s Mannish kin are a petty, spiteful, arrogant bunch of short-sighted prats. I suppose we can be thankful about this whole mortality thing just because it means they will be gone from Arda before they can mar it like an army of Morgoths.

The household elves have learnt how to deal with the Dwarves, uncouth as they are. Give them a place by the fire, beer and food and they are a jolly bunch. If they are really happy, they might offer to help you fix your heating system at no charge, even if they are of the royal line. Great singers too, as Lindir will gladly attest, in a gruff rustic style. The only complaint is that their drinking songs are rarely fit for polite company. Best to have the ladies away from the Hall of Fire before the beer really starts sloshing. Sadly, we are seeing less of them recently thanks to increased works in the mines of Khazad-dum. Seems Imladris has little to offer the kin of Durin now. Mayhaps we have to go all the way to the Khazad-dum’s Gates now to trade for mithril and gems.

I digress too much, so back to the Arnorian sibling rivalries. Lord Elrond has stated that he is leaving this knotty situation to the Arnorians to sort out at Erestor’s urging. Personally, I would side the Crown Prince Amlaith although he has scorned to use the High Elven tongue of Quenya in his naming. He has a nice enough temperament. Also, he remembers to write and send his congratulations to his Elven cousins on their begetting days every year. No one has the heart to tell him that the average elf stops celebrating this special day every cycle of the sun after coming of age. We celebrate once in ten cycles after reaching their second century of life and once every fifty years after the first millennium of life. He’s quite a decent fella, which is why his two brothers are not mercilessly quashed by his army yet.

Let me see if I can recall the other two claimants – Ah, the sneaky little shifty-eyed thief and that hot-tempered loudmouth who threatened our lord Elrond and gave Glorfindel reason to break his arm. Not very regal I may add. The sneaky bastard tried to seduce Lady Arwen on his second try at getting Lord Elrond’s support. Somehow I think seducing your host’s daughter will not endear you to him. No one told him that when an Elf-maid says no, she means it and has the strength to toss you into the fountain should you press the issue. I will not befoul my journal by recording their names.

His brother attempted the more direct but equally disastrous assassination on Prince Amlaith. It was only by the grace of Eru someone threw a pebble which deflected that crossbow bolt so the prince escaped with only a scratch - a poisoned scratch which necessitated his saviour revealing himself and offering aid via a many-purpose remedy concocted in Imladris. His rescuer refused a reward from a grateful King Earendur and left before first light. Elrond received a note from the prince expressing his gratitude to the elven guardian sent to watch over him. Lord Elrond equally bewildered as to who this mystery elf can be as Gildor’s band were wintering in Mithlond that year. Possible we have some odd elves trotting about up north mingling with Men instead of their own kind. 

Kin-strife is always a sorry thing to watch. Just ask the Finwions. Of course, if the Feanorions had fallen out with each other in Beleriand, we might be spared the last two Kinslayings, but that is just speculation.

Gah, that smelly elf-tramp/ bard (whatever) is back again and snoring in the stables. I hope he is not stealing from the stores… He looks like a sneaky thing.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 865_

Dear Journal

News came in from the realm formerly known as Arnor. We have three kingdoms now – Arthedain, Cardolan and Rhudaur. Arthedain is on friendly terms with us, the others not so. We have been in touch with King Amlaith of Arthedain, who has reaffirmed his kingdom’s friendship with Elven-kind with both Lord Elrond and Lord Cirdan of Mithlond. The civil war continues to rage.

It is fortunate that the children of Lord Elrond are not wont to engage in such rivalry. As an only child, I cannot judge sibling relationships but the twins never went beyond prank wars when they were younger, so much younger. The twins are near inseparable and I cannot see the twins squabbling over the lordship of Imladris should Lord Elrond sail…

Nah, I shouldn’t think that way. Lord Elrond will continue to rule Imladris for many more seasons…

We are still receiving Dwarves passing through but in lesser numbers now. Apparently there is this new inn which popped up further down the road and the Dwarves love their ale. No loss to us, or to Lord Elrond too with the envoys from Khazad-dum are no longer calling so often, our winter-stores are in so much better shape. I no longer have to fear them eating us out of house and home. And no more having to cart drunken Dwarves to their rooms and cleaning up messes from the halls from their over-indulgences.

The only complaint I have is that elf-tramp living off our stores. He has been here since autumn. I have raised the issue with Lord Elrond but being the benevolent master he is, he gave his permission for the tramp to stay and be fed from the kitchens until he is ready to travel in spring. On the upside, the tramp is a gifted bard and minstrel. Caught him playing the harp for Lady Celebrian and Lord Elrond. Elrohir eager to take lessons from him. He did take a bath, I suppose, for the Yule feast.

Overhead Elrond asking the tramp to sail to Aman only to have the tramp rebuff his advice. No doubt he fears he would be forbidden from setting foot in the Undying Realm given his lack of attention to his raiment. Clearly the ingrate intends to continue living off our hospitality. Hopes he quits Imladris by the New Year.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Mettare, T.A. 865_

Dear Journal

As always, Lord Elrond invited all in the Last Homely House to the hospitality of the Hall of Fire at the end of the Elven Year, including the tramp. Lord Elrond needs the festivities to get his mind off the troubles besetting the North. Understand that the elf tramp’s plans for a winter hike through Rhudaur have been thrown into chaos by tales of trolls in the North. Not even Glorfindel is that foolhardy. I guess that tramp is either suicidal or a born fool. Naturally, Elrond will not hear of it.

Still waters run deep. I never thought I would have the pleasure of watching Erestor get so utterly trounced at chess, and seven times in a row. Lord Elrond has played him several times but it was always a close match. No one guessed that tramp is a chess master.

Fell into conversation with Glorfindel trying to figure out who exactly that shifty tramp is. Our captain is tight-lipped and would only let on he is a kinsman of sorts of Lord Elrond from the First Age.

At the closing of the Mettare rites in the Hall of Fire, Lindir’s rendition of the _Noldolante_ had the elf in tears. Lord Elrond had to see him back to his room as he was so overwhelmed with emotion. Luckily we did not have Elrohir singing. His rendition will ruin the sombre tone of the rites.

I just spied that tramp plodding out of the gate with his harp and pack on foot. At least he has the decency not to take a horse from the stables or wake up the rest of the household. Strange, but I hope Eru will keep that fool-elf safe and not let him be eaten by a troll. It would never do for those beasts to take a liking to Elven flesh.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mettare – Last day of Rivendell calendar.


	17. Hints of Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Istar arrives in Imladris after a time of many troubling hints of the Shadow approaching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally I get to write Mithrandir/ Olorin/ Gandalf into Figwit's journal.

_Imladris, Quelle, T.A. 995_

Dear Journal

I must admit that for an Elf, I am not as gifted as some of my kindred in certain matters. I have little in the way of foresight or prophetic dreams. However, it has not failed my notice that Lord Elrond, Erestor and our captain are conferring more than usual and with great seriousness. Also noted sealed missives from the other elven realms, including the proud Greenwood, arriving at Imladris, which oft precede such discussions in Elrond’s study.

I did not mean to eavesdrop. It was just that the Lady feared the ellyn would miss their dinner and sent me up with a platter of food and pitcher of mead for them.

“For even Thranduil, in whomst little Amanyarin blood flowst to be thus plagued by ill visions… Thinkst thou the Shadow’s return is at hand?”

When Glorfindel gets worked up, he starts spouting flowery First Age Gondolin-speak. Of course he clammed up when he saw me in the doorway. Lord Elrond bade me leave both platter and pitcher on the table and they would tend to themselves. I sincerely hope the Shadow Glorfindel speaks of is not you-know-who. I don’t think I can take another round of epic wars such as during the Last Alliance.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 998_

Dear Journal

Not liking this one bit. Troubling news from the North of roving orcs and trolls attacking caravans and Mannish settlements all summer. Fortunately, Umbar down south has fallen under Gondor’s rule, although rumours abound of restive Black Numenoreans in Harad. There have been sightings of spiders, spawn of the dreaded Ungoliant, in the regions down south on the banks of the Anduin, so Thranduil’s missives claim. Our haughty woodland king now seems almost keen to pursue a closer alliance with Elrond. Gildor speaks of increasing numbers of elves making the journey to the coast to take ship to Aman at the mouth of the Anduin, including Silvans.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Quelle, T.A. 1000_

Dear Journal

We were awoken by a terrific clamouring last night. A severely-wounded elf was found at the border of our land – our elf tramp. He appears to have been savaged by a pack of wargs before he managed to drag himself to safety and was found by our patrol. Lord Elrond has taken personal charge of his care in the House of Healing. Hope he doesn’t leave for Mandos yet. Lord Elrond’s lady and children are awfully fond of the old elf. He sings great ballads (enough for poor Lindir to fear for his post) and tells wonderful tales of his travels far afield. One might wonder what he has been up to since his last sojourn with us. Erestor showing uncharacteristic concern. He has been at Elrond’s side assisting him despite his well-known squeamishness for matters involving bleeding wounds and stuff. Glorfindel is rallying his men to secure the perimeters of the valley. Traces of orcs found outside the vale. I guess the boys will have a go at orc-hunting once the weather allows.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 1000_

Dear Journal

Against all expectations, our guest pulled through despite a bad case of Orc-poison on top of the wargs. Lady Celebrian can use the faggots she had set aside for his funeral pyre to warm the Hall of Fire now. The household has been complaining of frozen toes since the firewood was diverted to keeping the House of Healing warm for our patient. Lord Elrond finally let me in on the big secret. Apparently I am the last of the senior household elves to know. I don’t believe it…

Even Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel are in on it? Well, I will not put it pass Galadriel to use guilt to send one of her own kinsmen into Angband itself for the purposes of intelligence-gathering. Lord Elrond hoping to use his current state of ill-health to force said kinsman to sail. However, Amanyar born in the Light of the Trees are known to be awfully resilient and he would probably be hitting the road on another solo mission courtesy of Galadriel come spring. At least she bothered to send a hand-crafted ‘Get-well’ card via Eagle – one with a nice picture of a blond elf getting torn apart by a wolf. The Elf in the picture looks remarkably like Finrod Felagund.

Lord Elrond had me burn the damned card instead of passing it to the patient. I dare not tell him of the other card with the blazing ships which Glorfindel handed to the patient. That triggered a relapse of the poison and Elrond had to sit up throughout the night at his bedside. Clearly Lord Namo forgot part of his brain when Glorfindel was re-embodied. I hope the other fear in Mandos are not using it as a door-stop.

Sometimes I forget how much of a vengeful bitch the Lady Galadriel of Lothlorien can be once she set her mind to it. That is probably why she never sailed back with the Host of the Valar – Lord Eonwe probably felt she would bring a mountain’s load of grudges back and left her ashore.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Coire, T.A. 1001_

Dear Journal

We had a most unusual visitor this morning. A really old man stumbled into the training yard at Imladris and Glorfindel literally dropped his sword. I was watching from my room and Glorfindel thinks he is alone in the yard. He goes all blubbery with joy like some elfling and before we could figure what’s happening, he’s all over that old geezer with hugs and kisses. The old man turned white, then blue and started gasping for breath. Fin, let the old chap breathe. The timely appearance of Lord Elrond was enough to pry our erstwhile captain off our visitor and into a semblance of decorum.

The beggarly-looking stranger was accorded a place at the table at dinner and Lord Elrond called a meeting of all the senior elves in the household. Our guest was sent from over the Sea by the Valar as the Shadow is rising anew. Lord Olorin, henceforth also known as Mithrandir, is a Maia cloaked in the likeness of an old man. He and his colleagues have arrived at Mithlond in secret last summer to better carry out their mission. Lord Cirdan’s in on it too and was to send Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel a message on the arrival of these Istari but he apparently forgot. Age, catches up with you eventually. Either that or the messenger got eaten by a warg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cat's out of the bag with regards to the mystery elf-tramp. Sorry if Galadriel's acting like a total bitch here with regards to her poor cousin, but at least Maglor is doing something useful instead of haunting the shore lamenting his losses. 
> 
> Glorfindel meant no harm- he just doesn't know his own strength. (Related artwork available on AO3-Old friends by Alystraea)


	18. Of Istari and Stubborn Elves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Figwit, Erestor and the twins get a little too curious and learn that Istari do not like snoopers. Also, Feanorions can be stubborn.

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 1001_

Dear Journal

Bade farewell to our guest Mithrandir as he heads off to Lorien with Glorfindel. They were close friends in Aman after Glorfindel’s return from Mandos. Our captain calls Mithrandir his tutor. Methinks Mithrandir might want to give some more lessons to his student en-route. Hope Cirdan’s message did get through to Lorien somehow. It would never do for an emissary of the Valar to be peppered with arrows by Haldir and brothers.

We found our messenger from Cirdan- at least he woke up long enough to tell us the code to the secret messages he was carrying- and Lindir thought those melodies in our tramp’s music scrolls were off-key. Lord Cirdan wanted to send Galdor with news to Imladris and Lorien, fearing that pigeons will not make the journey for the weather. However, our bard volunteered on the grounds that Galdor would arrive at the Misty Mountains late in autumn and might not be familiar enough with its passes for a safe crossing to Lorien. I wonder if Galdor is on good terms with Durin’s folk.

Having obtained the code’s key, Erestor gleefully set about deciphering the rest of the correspondence in the tramp’s pack in the quiet of Lord Elrond’s study whilst Elrond is occupied with his lady elsewhere. We were eagerly awaiting his findings, the twins included. Having worked past some embarrassing love-notes to his absent wife, we have the reports of his sojourns abroad, including in Rhun and distant Harad. From Cirdan’s letter, we learn that Mithrandir is one of the five Istari sent forth by the Valar. Two are tasked with missions in the distant East, while Curumo and Aiwendil will remain in the Westlands along with Mithrandir.

Then Mithrandir pulled a quick one on us. Found with the deciphered notes a grey parchment with the words – _It is unseemly to pry into the business of the Istari-_ before the entire lot burst into flames. The fire in the study greatly alarmed our Lord and Lady. The charred desk was a lost cause but the rest of papers on it survived unscathed. Elrond is not amused as the fire could have caused some serious damage to his valuable manuscripts.

The four of us are assigned suitable punishments to reflect on our prying - stable-duties and no outings for the twins until fall, a full audit report from me on the household expenses and stores and lucky Erestor only lost his right to sit at the main table until Yule. Well, having to sit in the kitchen and dine with the scullions and lesser staff isn’t that bad, Erestor. Why, I think our pastry cook might even like you. If you look at her from a certain angle, she does look like Glorfindel, and she cannot wait to arm-wrestle you over the kitchen table.

Moral learnt - never meddle with an Istar. 

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 1001_

Dear Journal

After a lengthy convalescence in Imladris, along with several relapses triggered by ‘Get-well’ cards from Lorien, our Kinslayer is ready for travel once more. Despite Elrond’s pleas to sail, the Feanorion is hearing nothing of it. Come on, the poor Elf is begging you to sail on his knees before his children. Glorfindel has returned from his visit to Lorien and takes the Feanorion’s side of the argument. So did Erestor. Did Lady Galadriel bribe you two? I firmly banish all thoughts of a threesome between our advisor, captain and the Lady whilst Celeborn hangs out with his boys.

It is a pity the Noldor are less susceptible to the call to sail than their Silvan kindred. Even more so if you have been roaming the coast for centuries before getting strong-armed into this spying business by a manipulative she-Elf. Erestor asked the Feanorion to write more often to inform Imladris on what Elros’ utterly messed-up line has been up to. Had to help Fin drag our Feanorion off Erestor lest Imladris has its first-ever Kinslaying. Clearly Elros is a sore point where his foster father is concerned.

But truly, if Elros did not chose the path of Man, there would have been no Numenor. There would have been no attempt by the Numenoreans to invade Valinor, no Downfall and Breaking of the World. There would have been no Arnor or Gondor and the whole bloody mess for Lord Elrond and his colleagues to pick through now… Then again, without Numenoreans rushing to our aid the first time Sauron rose against us, we all would have been lost without the Valar intervening as they did in the War of Wrath.  

I guess my attitude towards the tramp has softened much. I feel kind of sorry he feels he has to be sticking his neck out all the time and getting into trouble for the sake of his fosterling’s law-mother. If he’s willing, I will let him sleep on the rug in my room the next time so that he need not sleep in the stables or perched on a stool in a corner of the Hall of Fire. After all, he was High King of the Noldor (or regent at least) for a brief while when Maedhros got himself caught by Morgoth. Actually, Elrond did set aside a cosy room in a quiet part of the house but apparently his foster-father finds it far too good for the likes of him.

Don’t tell Lord Elrond, but I believe Erestor brings his lady-friends up there to make use of its elegant furnishings on occasion. Fin prefers conducting his liaisons under the stars or trees. I know because Lindir has stumbled into him more than once on his search for inspiration in the woods.  


	19. Visitors from the Greenwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Elrond's household receives a rare visit from King Thranduil of the Greenwood and his little elfling. Thranduil and Mithrandir do not make a good first impression on each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's little bit of elfling cuteness from little Legolas.

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 1051_

Dear Journal 

Today we had our first ever diplomatic visit from the Greenwood. Lord Elrond had been keeping in touch with him via letter, after the wood elves stopped using our messengers as archery butts. After centuries of missives, Thranduil finally deigned to stir from his barrow in the woods. Understand from Lord Celeborn at his last visit to Imladris that he had tried to extend an invite to his kinsman but Galadriel argued that having Thranduil visit Lothlorien will just embarrass their milk-sop of a king. 

I can understand where the Lady is coming from. Once they clapped their eyes on that virile example of regal kingship, they will ditch poor Amroth and beg Thranduil to be their king. That ellon has a sense of royal presence that is matched only by Lord Elrond and Glorfindel. His queen did not join the party though. If she had, I am sure she would have a lot to say about how the ellyth of Imladris are all over him (and some of the ellyn too). 

I am sure Lord Elrond did not prescribe nude massage in the baths for our royal guest. Please tell the stable-master I did not send his daughter to serve the king in the baths. Lord Elrond is trying his best to keep a lid on things but I guess the exotic charms of our guest is just too much for some elves. It was an awkward dinner for all having to watch our woodland king cuddling with two ellyth on his knees. Some activities are not fit for dining in polite company. I don’t care how you barbarians do things back in the Greenwood… The twins seem to be fairly amused though. At least Lady Arwen conducted herself with due dignity at dinner. 

King Thranduil brought along his elfling for his sojourn in Lord Elrond’s valley. One might think his lady played him false with an orc. True the little brat takes after his adar in looks, but he makes the twins’ worst antics look like a doll’s tea party. Perhaps all wood elflings are naturally rambunctious rascals, which will also explain the wood-elves’ propensity for early marriage and child-bearing. Best get the child-raising bit over with before one gets weary I suppose. 

The little princeling has his minders running in circles as he tears through the Last Homely House playing at the War of Wrath. I am sure Lady Celebrian would not agree to her tapestry of Vingilote ripped off the wall. Who gave that brat a bow and quiver? Lady Arwen! Surely you know better. I had to pitch in catching the little terror and putting him to bed. 

Noticed the twins chuckling and bringing some of the strong Dorwinion wine to the best guestroom. Hope they don’t get up to mischief like the time they got Lindir blind drunk and tied him to the grand table naked for everyone to find at breakfast.

* * *

 

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 1051_

Dear Journal 

Found the twins looking very green in the corridor outside King Thranduil’s room this morning. Apparently the woodland monarch can hold his liquor better and out-party the young ones. I will not remark on their shared state of deshabille. The king looked well-rested and none the worse for the wear. 

Little Legolas still giving his minders the run-around today. _Doesn’t that elfling ever tire?_ He reminds me of Arwen. Thranduil seems to have little interest in disciplining his offspring. During his discussion with Elrond over the state of matters east of the Misty Mountains, Legolas was given free rein to climb all over his adar. Not even little Arwen would interrupt an important meeting by pulling on Lord Elrond’s hair like Legolas did with his adar. 

I was tasked with entertaining the little brat. I thought I was through with babysitting. Lindir had been sent over to the House of Healing to have his spine re-aligned after said elfling jumped on him from the second-floor balcony yesterday while slaying dragons. Glorfindel’s suggestion of a sound spanking did not go well with our guest. Erestor has vanished into thin air, apparently. Did anyone try looking in the stables? Twins still feeling too ill to play with the rascal. Found them moaning and puking in the House of Healing. Dorwinion wine can do that if not taken in moderation. 

Thankfully, Lady Arwen stepped in. The little one seems all bespelled by her as she takes his hand and strolls about the orangery, teaching him the lore of the plants and favourite ballads. Some day she would make a great naneth- The little brat has gone off to ask his ada if Lady Arwen can come home with them to the Greenwood.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 1051_

Dear Journal 

Little Legolas sulking up a tree after his ada firmly said ‘no’ to bringing Lord Elrond’s daughter home as his new playmate. Let the little one stay there so the household and his father’s retinue can get some much-deserved peace. 

I overheard some snatches of the conversation between Elrond and his guest when bringing them tea. Sure, no one ever notices the domestic help - that is why I have to serve Lord Elrond in the study when he is with important guests. Your average serving maid would have blabbed everything out before sunset. That would be a disaster and not reflect well on the confidences shared in the Last Homely House. 

Never expected Thranduil to show a serious side once he has got the partying out of the way. Seems things are really amiss in the Greenwood. Legolas’ naneth and two of her ladies went missing without a trace on a flower-viewing trip to the southern part of the forest last year. Her ion thinks his nana is away visiting family and his ada has no heart to tell him the truth. The woodland king fears the worst, especially after some creepy old man was seen poking about their woods in the days after the incident. Thranduil tried to detain him for questioning but his quarry gave him the slip. The king hopes to keep up appearances all is well for the sake of his subjects. I believe our merry Greenwood elves to be easily spooked by nature.

Elrond has no idea what could have happened to the Elf-queen and her ellyth or their horses. Like Thranduil, he only sensed an unnamed Darkness east of the Misty Mountains. Then we almost had a murder in the Last Homely House when Mithrandir barged into the study unannounced. Thranduil yanked out his long knife (Note to self: request the surrender of all arms before admitting a guest to Lord Elrond’s study in future) and threatened to gut the Istar. Mithrandir pulls one of his wizard tricks and sent Thranduil crashing back into his chair and the knife stabbing into Elros’ official portrait (the one Elrond hated because it made Elros look so old but he had to hang it up anyway because it was the only one known to have survived the Downfall). Elrond was too stunned to do much more than gape like a goldfish.

After what I suppose must be a lot of explaining (I wasn’t sticking about with an angry elf-king and wizard in close proximity), they reached some accord. Thranduil still looking peeved. Elrond is looking relieved and our wizard? I can’t tell under his bread and bushy brows. Mithrandir did not stay for dinner though.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 1051_

Dear Journal 

Little Legolas was wailing like his little heart’s breaking after Thranduil finally told him what happened to his nana. We wish he had waited till morning so that Legolas didn’t keep us up all night with his crying. King Thranduil at his wits’ end and took off riding to ‘clear his head’, leaving his ion alone with his minders. The little elfling was thinking orcs will kill and eat his ada just like they did his nana. 

The twins and Arwen also abandoned the house at dawn to get away from the racket. I am sure your adar had sufficient stocks of dried athelas in the House of Healing. You need not go gather more from the edge of the valley. Lord Elrond mixed up a calming draught but Legolas was having none of it. Just when everyone was tearing out their hair, Lady Celebrian stepped in and scooped up the little mite. She just held him in her arms and sat in her favourite rocking chair until the little elfling calmed down. 

I guess there is no substitute for a naneth’s patience. Elrond muttering something about having a few words with Thranduil about wilfully abandoning his son. Well, Elrond has three elflings of his own and has been fostering young ones of his brother’s line on occasion. I think he has enough experience when it comes to dealing with traumatised little ones. Glorfindel and Erestor went off to fetch the Greenwood king and returned with a livid Thranduil. 

It seemed that the Feanorion had demonstrated how to set snares to the twins the last time he was in the valley. The twins had put their knowledge to good use last autumn trapping game but forgot to retrieve one of their snares. Glorfindel found a fuming Thranduil hanging in the trees by his ankle, waiting to be cut down like a snared hare. Little Legolas is overjoyed his ada did not eaten by orcs.   

Thranduil’s insufferable pride has taken a beating from his less-than-dignified rescue and announced his intent to leave within two days. I will not miss them. Elrond gave some grim warnings from our Istar friend about a Shadow over the Greenwood but our haughty king is not buying it. He rejected Lord Elrond’s offer to have Legolas fostered in Imladris. Poor kid will probably be buried deep in the gloomy halls of his adar’s forest until the World breaks. At least he is allowed to keep Lady Arwen's old bow as a souvenir of Imladris.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The creepy old man stalking about the Greenwood might be Mithrandir or Aiwendil, or even Saruman. Or it might just be a passing tramp.


	20. Prodigal Sons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sons of Elrond and Thranduil get up to mischief and almost cause a war between Mirkwood and Imladris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boys will be boys, even at the twins' age.

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 1060_

Dear Journal

Household in an uproar after the twins took it upon themselves to spring a certain woodland prince from the tyranny of his adar. All because said elfling got grounded for trying to sneak into a rumoured spider’s lair. Personally, my sympathies will be for the spider. Thranduil should have let his ion get acquainted with the wildlife of the realm. Lord Elrond trying to defuse the delicate situation with the King of Mirkwood via correspondence. Who would have thought sending the twins to Lothlorien to escort their sister Arwen home would bring about so much trouble. Arwen should also re-consider sharing her letters with her hot-blooded brothers.

Lady Celebrian is on tenterhooks as the boys have yet to return from their rescue mission. Lady Arwen has made it safely home in the company of an entourage of a dozen trusty guards, including Haldir of Lothlorien, and Erestor. They were under the impression the twins had ridden on ahead of the party to Imladris.

It is late in the season to cross the Misty Mountains and with an elfling slowing the pair down… The boys might decide to slip back over the Anduin to their grandparents' place. Though we can expect Lord Celeborn to discipline the pair for their jaunt. Perhaps being snowed in the mountains is preferable to Lady Galadriel’s wrath.

Glorfindel is mustering the household ellyn in case Thranduil’s fiery temper wins out and we find the army of Mirkwood on our doorstep one morning. According to Erestor, who was involved in the delicate negotiations, our twin lordlings made quite an impression on the woodland elves.

Grumpy old Thranduil had his ion locked up in his bedchambers with two guards at the door. Elladan and Elrohir managed to get themselves welcomed in the elven-king’s halls by introducing themselves as emissaries of their grandfather and Thranduil’s kinsman. The pair engineered a daring escape by knocking out the guards with poppy in their wine.

Kidnapping your royal host’s son is not diplomatic, even if the elfling did abet you in locking his ada in the baths so you can make your escape.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 1060_

Dear Journal

No news as yet from our missing prince and lordlings despite it being a fortnight since their flight. Naturally, the parents are frantic. Grumbles coming from across the mountains. Lord Elrond still trying to soothe Thranduil’s ruffled feathers. Erestor seeking news from the Mannish caravans from the south in case the boys took a detour to spend winter by the sea. Our captain has been dispatched with a troop to scour the nearby mountains for traces of the wayward trio to no avail. In Glorfindel’s absence, Haldir has been roped in to brush up our men’s archery skills so as to better defend the valley…

Wait, I am a scribe, not a warrior…

_(Figwit is reluctantly dragged from his room to the training yard by Haldir)_

* * *

 

_Imladris, Quelle, T.A. 1060_

Dear Journal

Three weeks after their grand escape, our prodigals have sheepishly stumbled into the bounds of Imladris escorted by our Feanorion tramp and Haldir (who had been watching the path). We will choose to overlook the fact Haldir’s arrow is sticking out of the Feanorion’s shoulder. Can't blame the sentry- the Feanorion does have a slight Orkish air about him with the beard and weird Haradrim get-up. 

The trio ran afoul of a hill-troll or some similar beast and lost both their steeds and supplies. Next came a disastrous attempt to get into Khazad-dum,uninvited. Dwarves do not take kindly to outsiders in these dark days, especially outside the summer trading season. So our erstwhile adventurers got locked up until the King of the Dwarves returned from his trading trip down south. Thankfully, they had another uninvited prisoner snoring in the dungeons – the Feanorion. They had to put the elfling to sleep with songs and some of the leftover poppy Elrohir had with him because little Legolas was terrified of being in the dark. Just typical of stingy Dwarves to save on dungeon lighting.

Then a cave-troll crashed into their cell and they made a successful escape through the Dwarven kingdom while the Dwarves were busy fending off a full-blown cave-troll attack. The Feanorion admitted that he makes a habit of mooching off the Dwarves’ prison when caught on the east side of the mountains if he cannot reach the Mannish kingdoms or Imladris in time for winter. Lothlorien and Mirkwood are out of the question as both Lord Celeborn and King Thranduil have long memories about a certain Kinslaying in some Beleriand caves. Well, Thranduil was even not yet born then, but he apparently inherited the First Age grudges from Oropher when his adar fell in battle. The band of escapees then made a hard trek from the Gates through the abandoned ruins of Eregion.

Elrond overjoyed naturally to have his boys home safe and sound and a possible war averted. A falcon sent to Mirkwood with news. Snow would be high in the passes now and any journey back to Mirkwood will have to wait until spring. The twins get healing-room duties until then, more than enough time to reflect on their deeds. Legolas given their old nursery for the duration of his stay and several nannies to attend to his needs. Looks like our Last Homely House has an additional young guest this season. But the young one is pouting about not having ellyn closer to his age to play with…

Ack, get Haldir to babysit him! He’s a wood-elf like Legolas. My spine! Help!

_(Little Legolas bouncing up and down on Figwit’s back playing at horsey.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Legolas is still a slip of an elfling and has no memory later of ever being in Moria/ Khazad-dum. As usual Figwit ends up as long-suffering babysitter.


	21. Yule Festivities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter falls on the Last Homely House and everyone is caught up in the Yuletide festivities. Arwen is being secretive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This a chapter for the Yuletide season, before we plunge into Dol Guldur, Witch-kings and nasty stuff.

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 1060_

Dear Journal

It has been a while since there was an elfling in the Last Homely House and I have almost forgotten how much destruction and chaos can be wrought by one so small. One would expect a prince of his age to be better-schooled but I guess Thranduil has little time to take him in hand. Little brat was going about waking everyone up to the sound of smashed windows this morning as he tries his hand at using a sling. Clearly those rotting melons in the training yard are not as tempting a target as the stained-glass windows of Imladris’ grand halls.

Lord Elrond has other things on his mind than the upbringing of a wood-elfling. Lady Arwen feeling under the weather and confined herself to her rooms. Some nasty rumours have made it back to Imladris concerning a short-lived dalliance with one of Haldir’s brothers, or possibly both. If there is one thing any self-respecting Eldar should not engage in, it is groundless gossip. Well, heartbreak is part of growing up. Word from the kitchens claims that Lady Arwen is with child- and candidates for paternity run from King Amroth (highly unlikely) to the King of Mirkwood (even more unlikely). Lord Elrond has failed to convince her to open her door to allow him a chance to disprove the rumours.

Captain Glorfindel has quite enough, especially after Legolas thought it would be fun to dye his horse’s mane and tail bright orange for a lark. Prince or not, he is seeking permission from Lord Elrond to discipline the imp, preferably over his knee with the heavy application of a palm to said young one’s bottom. The twins have shown the rare spark of maturity by taking our young guest on a winter ride in the woods to keep him from further mischief.

Lady Celebrian is fretting about her little girl. Lindir has volunteered to cheer her up with song, even if it means he has to stand for hours in a snowdrift under her balcony to serenade her. Well, better him than me.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 1060_

Dear Journal

Curiosity is killing me. Lady Arwen has been holed up in her room since her return from Lorien, not even leaving for meals. Lady Celebrian has given orders to the kitchen staff to bring Arwen a tray at mealtime. Also noted unusual activities by Erestor bringing skeins of coloured silks to her room. Yule is almost right upon us and I hope she will be joining us in the Hall of Fire for the songs.

Lindir has found himself another student in Legolas. That elfling has a voice like a thrush. At least when he is busy singing we need not fear his pranks. The Feanorion has been gracing our long winter evenings with song and music from his harp. Haldir has in the meanwhile come clean with the rumours of Arwen’s short-lived dalliance. It would seem that both his little brothers were at fault for bouncing their lame excuses for love ballads off Arwen (who does have a good ear for music) without thought as to the repercussions to an elleth of her standing. It is a great relief that our fair Evenstar did not take a shine to lowly wood-elves. Still enough to cause concern to her grandparents to request her return to Imladris. 

It's almost a pity Thingol could not send Galadriel back from Beleriand thanks to the Doom. Especially after the infamous incident of her teaching innocent Prince Celeborn some interesting positions in the bedroom whilst in the garden, with his daughter Luthien taking notes, if the tales from the former elves of Doriath are to be believed. But they did produce a lovely lady-wife for Lord Elrond...

Haldir and Glorfindel having a grand time exchanging tales and pointers in wrestling and archery in the barracks. Having visitors from Lorien is proving a great boon to the guards as they brush up on their skills. Then there is the Dorwinion wine Haldir brought for Yule courtesy of Lord Celeborn…

Wait - I do not wrestle- Fin!

_(A drunk and laughing Glorfindel drags Figwit out to the yard for a bout of wrestling.)_

* * *

 

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 1060_

Dear Journal

This Yule we were all snowed in, possibly until Mettare by the look of things. Everyone was running a bit stir-crazy in the valley but for Lord Elrond’s skilful management and the lifting of spirits in the Hall of Fire by Lindir and the Feanorion through the use of song and music. Of course, Elrond could use his ring to fix the weather but he was not inclined to do so. He believes that slapping a patch of mild weather in the midst of a cold winter would have side-effects on top of betraying our location.

At the Yule celebrations, Lady Celebrian and her lord danced a traditional Silvan reel, much to the delighted applause of our Silvan guests. They then had a stately Noldorin waltz with the Feanorion accompanying it with a Quenya song. Erestor tried to explain the words to me but I was not really paying attention. It was about some queen in Valinor whose king had gone off somewhere, or was it the queen who left? Quite a sad melody, not as sad as the Noldolante though.   

Arwen finally made her appearance and presented the reason for her earlier absence- our Evenstar has embroidered a flowing tapestry of Imladris’ glory through the changing seasons whilst holed up in her room. She even put some of the household elves in the scenes (lucky ones).

Spring has her parents on the balcony watching the birds. Summer has picnicking by the Bruinen with various household elves. Fall has her brothers and Glorfindel returning from a hunt with their steeds laden with pheasants and hares. Winter has Lindir singing in the Hall of Fire before the household.

My lady, may I be so bold as to venture- did you forget little old me? You slipped Haldir into the Fall hunting scene and Legolas and Gildor Inglorion into the summertime picnic. Even the Feanorion was given a spot in the Winter gathering. They are not of Imladris…

Oh, that’s me in the corner, next to Erestor? Why do I look drunk? I assure you I do not get drunk…

Arwen? Where are you in the…

_(An inebriated Figwit nods off, right into Maglor’s lap)_

* * *

 

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 1060_

Dear Journal

Awoke this morning with a killer hangover - never let Haldir mix up the wassail. Most of the elves did not make it back to their rooms last night. Elladan and Elrohir have their young friend cuddled between them for warmth. I hope they did not treat the elfling to their repertoire of naughty Yule songs last night. Haldir and Fin were snoring like a pair of Dwarves, fit to bring the roof down.

Lord Elrond and the Feanorion were going about dispensing a bracing tea to all who have awoken. The Feanorion picked up the remedy somewhere down south. It clears the head but it tastes like crap- What? The main ingredient is worm droppings? Ugh!

You were pulling my leg? You should have told me before I puked all over Glorfindel and Haldir. The racket woke up Legolas who seemed to be afflicted with a case of homesickness this morning. The young one was crying for his Ada. Sorry, kiddo. You ain't leaving for home until late spring when the pass is clear of snow. Should have thought that one out before running away with our lordlings. 

I had no time to spare for the elfling as I was too busy hiding from an angry Balrog Slayer and an irate Marchwarden. I hope the few apples in this barrel can last me till spring. Argh!

_(Figwit's barrel is picked up by Glorfindel for the purposes of watching a barrel floating down the still-flowing Loudwater with Haldir and assorted ellyn dancing on it in turn for kicks)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of foreboding in the dance and song item chosen by Elrond and Celebrian.


	22. Visitors from Afar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Eldar Lords and Gandalf address the problem of the Shadow's Return in Dol Guldur. Gandalf gets interested in some newcomers to Eriador. Saruman is nosey, so is Figwit. The twins are traumatized when their grandparents visit Rivendell and they decide to surprise them with breakfast in bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a reference to Celeborn x Galadriel and Elrond x Celebrian here. Elves can be kinky.

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 1100_

Dear Journal

I am seriously considering leaving for Mithlond. Whispers from over the mountains are not exactly reassuring. In recent months, Lord Elrond has Mithrandir, Glorfindel and Erestor in his study for hours on end. Sometimes even the Feanorion joins them. Falcons from Lord Celeborn and King Thranduil bring news to Lord Elrond constantly when weather allows. The Darkness has returned to Arda.

At his last visit, Haldir told us tales of secretive beings he and his brothers glimpsed while on watch on the banks of the Anduin - creatures too small to be Elf or Man, yet too slight to be Dwarf – and we thought they were tippling the Dorwinion whilst on marchwarden duty. Now the Feanorion seems to give credit to these strange tales by speaking of similar encounters in the wilds to the north of Imladris. The men of the Northern kingdoms have spoken of these halflings but one knows better than to trust the Second-born with their poor eyes and hearing.

Mithrandir is taking an unseemly interest in the matter which leads to further confirmation there is some kernel of truth…

More disturbing are reports of giant spiders and dark shadows flitting about Mirkwood. The wood elves of Thranduil’s realm seem to have beaten a retreat to his Halls after attacks by wargs and other foul beasts on their outlying southern settlements near Dol Guldur- Thrandil’s ancestral seat before Amdir moved in across the river. Kings Oropher and Amdir had some kind of rivalry on back then. Makes one wonder if the entire fiasco in the Last Alliance with the Silvans was not due to some crazy ‘let’s see how many orcs our armies can kill’ competition. More elves are making a beeline from Lothlorien and Mirkwood to sail from the mouth of the Anduin.

Then again, if I should leave, who will keep the Last Homely House up and running? Who will make sure there is enough firewood to last through winter? Who will keep the baths clean and the bed-linens fresh? Who will bring Lord Elrond his meals while he is in deep discussion with his colleagues and eavesdrop… wait, scratch that last bit out.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 1100_

Dear Journal

Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn made a surprise visit to Imladris late in the season hoping to catch our wanderer. Unfortunately, Mithrandir has quit the vale on the trail of these halflings with the Feanorion. Instead, we have a meddling wizard and his rustic colleague. Don’t get me wrong but it is poor form to inquire a lady of her ring when her husband is in the same room. Surely an Istar like Curunir should know better. He has also been taking an unhealthy interest in Lord Elrond’s ring Vilya too.

In case he is unfamiliar with our customs, it is rude to question an Eldar’s marriage status especially when his spouse is at the same table. It is also considered nigh ill-luck to speak of the forging of the rings of power. Elrond is too polite to object to the questioning but Galadriel has no reservations about telling the nosey wizard to stuff it.

As for the rustic Aiwendil, he has been great company to Lady Celebrian and her daughter in putting the gardens in order for winter. I just wish he would quit tracking leaves and mud throughout the Last Homely House. Pleasant company though, for someone who has critters in his hair.

Still, I hope the wizards will up and head south like Curunir claimed they would before the first snows. Let them mooch off the Gondorians or someone else.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Quelle, T.A. 1100_

Dear Journal

This morning, I was horribly traumatized. The twins were mightily traumatized, too. When bringing a surprise breakfast, one does not expect to encounter one’s respectable grandparents in a compromising position. Now we know why Galadriel was asking for ropes and a riding crop last night. The boys dropped the trays and ran for their parents’ room only to receive the bigger shock of seeing their ada in their nana’s lacy nightgown.

Their yelling woke up the entire household. Erestor had the foresight to usher Lady Arwen away to the dining room until the commotion died down in the hallways. We needed Fin’s sword to cut a naked Lord Celeborn loose from the bed. Galadriel pouting because of the interruption to their fun. Will not comment on the leather kilt and armour thing she was wearing. Elrond tried to explain away his get-up and saying he had thrown on the nearest garment he could find. It might be more believable if he had not laced up each of the many delicate ribbons on it. Celebrian was giggling like a naughty elfling as she padded about in nothing but a sheet.

Thank Eru our Istari guests have left the night before. Glorfindel was muttering some nonsense about impending doom inspiring more daring in intimacy and how despite the rules of the Eldar about binding and children in times of war, the Exile population actually rose steeply during the First Age in wilds of Beleriand but tapered off once they got safely into hidden Gondolin. Rumors even have it that Aegnor and his Mannish lady managed to pop out some half-elven brats before Dagor... Wait, did he say impending doom? Is Sauron back raising some Dark Fortress over the mountains?

Fin, why are you taking out the weapons from the armoury? Why are you asking me if I have any armour...

_(A panicked Figwit drops his journal and flees before Glorfindel could put him down for a training roster.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naughty, naughty elves. 
> 
> Some hints at Saruman (Curunir)'s future interest in the One Ring.


	23. Commentary on Training and Politics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Figwit comments on the political situation in Middle Earth and bitches about Glorfindel's training. Sometimes the histories do not reflect the actual events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild Elrond x Celebrian, Celeborn x Galadriel suggested.

_Imladris, Coire, T.A. 1248_

Dear Journal

My sense of unease has grown despite the calming environs of the valley. Glorfindel and Lord Elrond have taken it upon themselves to organise the elves of the valley into a fighting force, for reasons I do not comprehend. We have had a false alarm about a century back when those halflings started moving into Eriador. The blighters had no idea how close they came to being annihilated by Glorfindel’s righteous wrath before Mithrandir popped up to clarify that they were no servants of the Shadow but rather refugees from it.

There is talk of war in the East, but the Gondorians seem to be keeping those pesky Easterlings in check. Perhaps Narmacil II was right in selecting his nephew Minalcar to rule as regent in his stead. During the rare visit to Imladris, Narmacil had always struck one as being sickly, even for an Adan. Surprised he managed to last so long, but I doubt that state of affairs will remain. As for the regent, he has proven himself a worthy leader. Let’s hope he does not get all uppity and unseat his uncle.

Nothing against Fin, but he’s one tough drill sergeant. My blisters have blisters after that twice-weekly training he put us reserve guards through. I count myself fortunate I am drafted into the reserve. The twins had their adar train them last week. It has been a while since Elrond wore armour and he still cuts an impressive figure, if you discount the fact said armour is an unfashionable purple Second Age relic bequeathed to him by Gil-galad. It’s his second-best suit. The High-King was in his battle-best when he became toast. The twins were laughing. They stopped laughing once Elrond proceeded to train them. Celebrian was more than a little miffed to have both her boys beaten black and blue.

Lady Galadriel suggested at her last visit that the ellyth be trained in fighting as much as the ellyn but Lord Elrond has not deemed that necessary yet. However, in the unlikely event Imladris is overrun, Celebrian and Arwen are putting in place plans for evacuation of ellyth and elflings. I just hope it will not be as tedious a plan as Idril’s Secret Way. I do not suppose we can hire a couple of Dwarves to dig it for us.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 1248_

Dear Journal

One benefit about the training Fin has been putting us through since winter- it does tone up the muscles. Even Lindir is sporting biceps and firm abs now. Enough to make the local ellyth forget he is a mere fool of a minstrel and start swooning all over his new physique. Ellyth love them warrior-types. Just ask Lady Galadriel. Since Lord Celeborn took up training alongside his men to deal with any threats from across the Anduin, she could not keep her hands off her new and improved hunk of a hubby, so the gossips from Lothlorien claim. I must admit - it must be a bit distracting to hear them both at it up a tree like a pair of polecats while one is at archery training below. Perhaps King Amroth’s lady-love will reconsider now that Amroth has put some muscle on his weedy frame. Or perhaps not.

Yours truly had a rather enjoyable dalliance with two elf-maids before Lady Celebrian came along and ruined everything. The lady was having one of her Miss Spoilt Brat moments after Elrond told her he was too worn out from training to entertain her tonight. After one big tantrum, she decided to have an all-night tapestry marathon with her ladies, two of whom I have invited to my bed… chamber, for some… talk (nudge, nudge, wink).  

Wait, you need the lamps- each and every single one of them in the Last Homely House?

_(Figwit is left sitting in the dark alone as Celebrian commandeers his lamp and ladies)._

* * *

 

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 1250_

Dear Journal

War has not broken out west of the Misty Mountains despite Lord Elrond’s grim expectations, apart from the usual border strife between the three kingdoms of Arnor. Lord Elrond has long given up hope of a peace accord where they are concerned. The kingdoms of Cardolan and Rhudaur seem to be changing kings every season that we lose track. So long as Arthedain remains friendly with us Elves and the skirmishes do not spill over, we are fine with it. On the upside, we have peace in the East for now thanks to Regent Minalcar’s skilful leadership. Oh, wait- he now calls himself Romendacil II. Upstart prat.

In the meanwhile, King Narmacil II has stirred himself from his torpor and initiated a building project consisting of two larger than life statues of Isildur and Anarion on the northern edge of his kingdom – just to remind everyone he is still king of the realm. Unfortunately, everyone credited the building to Romendacil II, never mind that he is running about up north with some wild tribes. My guess is that Narmacil II will go down in the history books as a sluggard and milk-sop who left the ruling to his regent.

According to Maglor, who passed by the spot in summer, the said statues do not look anything like the kings. According to him, Anarion would be making rude gestures to all-comers and Isildur should have a nasty scar across his face from an orc-blade. Having them both peeing into the river which flows through the realm would be an improvement. Clearly, someone is still smarting from the rough treatment he received the last time he was in Osgiliath. Well, you should expect the Second-born to be unappreciative of fine elven music.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 1260_

Dear Journal

Lord Elrond is troubled from recent developments down south. The trouble started up north when the Gondorian ambassador to the Northmen decided to shack up with one of their women. Might not have been a big deal if he had not been in the queue for succession and actually married her. Prince Valacar has been recalled to Gondor and brought his half-Northman son with him. Bearing in mind what happened the last time a king of Gondor married outside the Dunedain line, his worries may not be entirely groundless. Dead cats anyone?

The possibility of a hostile realm in Gondor is decidedly uncomfortable. The Istari have been quiet for a while so no advice on that score. Think Aiwendil might be batting about Mirkwood somewhere. Haldir claimed he caught a glimpse of some old beggar dancing with squirrels. Mithrandir and Curunir have dropped out of touch with Lord Elrond. Lord Cirdan has been awfully quiet too. Maybe his messengers are getting killed by orcs and wargs, or just detouring to that famous inn with the legendary ale.

Thranduil has fallen back on his kingdom’s isolationist policies. All callers to realms will be treated as hostile unless invited by the king. The woodland king clearly has his crown set too tight about his head. The twins’ diplomatic call did not go so well this time. Or they might have just tangled with the wrong ellyth. At least Prince Legolas sent an apology by falcon. Little brat seemed to have matured much – must be living with the threat of the spiders or just having a borderline crazy ada.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was Romendacil II who was credited with the building of the statues as regent in the annals. 
> 
> The idea of a somewhat trigger-happy Glorfindel is amusing - if he mistook the hobbits for a new type of orc, that would really wreck Eru's plan about the Ring War.


	24. Yes Sir, Figwit Sir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Figwit tries his hand at training the new recruits and ends up with more than he bargained for.

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 1280_

Dear Journal

For some confounded reason, Fin has put me in charge of training the newest bunch of recruits before hoofing it to Lorien with Mithrandir. I am not saying I am incapable of training the lot but this is the most ill-behaved, surly young ellyn ever to wash up on Lord Elrond’s doorstep. We have a few Silvans from over the mountains and others of mixed Sindar-Noldor extraction, whose parents have either joined the household staff recently or sailed leaving their sons behind for some reason.

I am a mighty fine bowman and instructor but Eru! Can any batch of trainees be more trying to an Elf’s patience? The Silvan reputation as bowmen seems to be overstated. I do not understand how they could land their arrows repeatedly short of the target and into my person. Many thanks to the padded leather jerkin Lady Arwen insisted I wear, I have avoided an extended stay in the House of Healing.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 1280_

Dear Journal

After a fortnight of training, the new bowmen are now able to land their arrows on target. Elrohir has also given me a few tips on how not to end up like a porcupine at the end of a training session – avoid standing next to the target or in the same direction of the target to avoid distracting the trainees. The sons of Elrond have also offered to take over the swordsmanship and wrestling part of the training from me after a pile-up.

Seriously, when I said ‘Gimme your best shot,” I was not expecting all twenty recruits to come at me with their staffs at once. I am no Glorfindel the Balrog-Slayer. This unfortunate miscommunication landed me in the wards with three broken ribs and a concussion, among other lesser hurts. Will stop here for now as writing with one’s toes takes a bit of getting used to and I am still seeing double.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 1280_

Dear Journal

The little rascals, I mean recruits, came to visit me in the ward today while Lord Elrond was out. Brought me a fruit basket and some fine honey-wine - the latter of which I am savouring now. I guess they aren’t so bad kids after all… Hm, that apple looks tasty…

Eh, there is something buzzing in the bottom of the basket. (Inkblot) 

_(Figwit gets stung by the nest of wasps his recruits have so thoughtfully hidden in the bottom of the fruit basket as the delinquents roll about with laughter outside his window)_

* * *

 

  _Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 1280_

Dear Journal

This is it. I will tell Fin I will no longer train any of his miscreants once he gets back to Imladris. Elladan and Elrohir can take it from here. Lindir, I am definitely not helping you train the elflings in archery. Get Erestor to help you. Leave me in my office to sort out the household accounts…

Eh, Lady Arwen is seeking a brave ellon to help her train the ellyth of the valley in self-defence? Count me in… I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?

_(Later, Lord Elrond is surprised to find Figwit limping into the House of Healing cradling his nuts)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figwit does not make a good army instructor.


	25. The Witch-king Cometh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rise of Angmar unsettles the inhabitants of Rivendell.

_Imladris, Quelle, T.A. 1350_

Dear Journal

Our Feanorion friend has been scouting out the North and brought dire news to Imladris about a new kingdom known as Angmar. It would seem that Lord Elrond’s worries were not without basis. The wise ones are deep in discussion for hours in Elrond’s study with falcons sent to Lorien and Mirkwood. Of course no one really cares about my two cents about the situation as long as I keep the wine warm and the snack table stocked. Maglor regretted that he had to flee Rhudaur post-haste after his cover was blown. It would seem that the new king of the kingdom is a hill-man and his court a puppet of neighbouring Angmar. Never has there been such widespread persecution of the Dunedain since the Dark days of Numenor before the fall.  

There is talk of letting the Dunedain refugees find sanctuary in Imladris, which is quickly overruled by Erestor. Imladris is small enough as it is. We do not have the resources for additional mouths. Also, it is a needless risk of revealing the whereabouts of one of the Three Elven Rings. It would be better to rush them onwards to Cardolan and Arthedain. The current king of Cardolan does seem to be friendlier to Arthedain than his predecessors, perhaps thanks to the fact his queen was of Arthedainish extraction.  

Lady Celebrian concerned about her lord’s flagging spirits. Methinks a lesser elf would have long upped and sailed. Perhaps Elrond’s hair would turn white and he would spout a beard like Cirdan’s. Lady Celebrian most certainly will not be amused if that happens. She has given orders for a night of song and dance to take her lord’s mind off weightier matters.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Yestare, T.A. 1351_

Dear Journal

A long line of elves outside the House of Healing this morning seeking bracing tonics or heartsease. Lady Celebrian did not show at breakfast, claiming weariness. Even Lord Elrond is looking peaked. More than a dozen families have applied leave to sail come spring. One would put it down to more than simply bad wine at last night’s feast. Even I was not spared a visitation of one of Lord Irmo’s warnings of Doom. Dare I put into words the vision of Shadow?

Here goes…

I dreamt I was standing atop a hill when I saw a dark rider without his head approach. Instead a fiery crown hovered. Maglor had the same nightmare. He awoke spewing fiery curses and groping for his blade. That was when I awoke for Maglor was groping me for his weapons, the both of us having passed out in the Hall of Fire from the Mettare feast.

Understand from the old elf that our vision was of one of the Nine, the Nazgul who serve the shadow. I had heard rumours of these wraiths from the Last Alliance where we believed them destroyed with Sauron. Guess our old foes are back.

Lindir singing to keep everyone’s spirits up but he is little shaky today and not just from last night’s wine. Fin training with his sword in the courtyard and muttering about how he wished he could duke it out with the wraiths for wrecking his reverie about his beloved in Aman. Well, better you than us, mellon nin.

Mithrandir popped up on our doorstep demanding an immediate audience with my lord Elrond and Glorfindel. Well, he got what he wanted. They are holed up in the study for the entire Yestare, even as I write. Not that anyone is in a celebratory mood.


	26. Kin-Strife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rivendell receives news of the Kin-strife. Elrond adopts a no-intervention policy which certain members of his household are eager to challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Passing mentions of First Age battles and events.

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 1433_

Dear Journal

Oh joy. Just when you think things cannot get any worse with the Nazgul and a war up north, the southern cousins of the Dunedain decided to up the ante with some good old-fashioned family feuding. Remember that Northman bride of Valacar’s a couple of years back? Well, the king of Gondor and her husband has shuffled off the mortal coil. His adoring subjects are none too keen about a half-Northman king. Lord Elrond has sworn to sit this one out too, the same way we sat out the succession crisis in Arnor a couple hundred years back.

We have more than we can handle now with Rhudaur lost and Cardolan overrun by Angmar. The enemy is closer to our gates than ever. Thankfully, Lord Cirdan has promised Mithlond’s assistance to Arthedian and her king should the need arise. Communications with Fornost getting a tad strained now given the unfriendly terrain in between. Only messenger birds and hardy travellers like our Istari and the Feanorion need apply. We have not heard from Gildor Inglorion’s ragtag bunch for a while. Hope they are not in too much trouble. It would seem the last of the Northern kingdoms is holding on just barely for now.

Back to the South, we have a good number of the old Numenorean houses (the imbeciles) casting their lot behind some prince Castamir instead of their rightful heir Eldacar. Open rebellion in the streets. Fin thoroughly sickened by the whole matter as it reminded him too much of an earlier time when he was but an elfling. He is requesting permission to hie down south and sort things out. Thankfully, Lord Elrond has denied him permission to go smashing stuff in Gondor. Methinks our captain is a supporter of Eldacar, as are our twin lordlings.

Just last week, Erestor has forestalled an attempt by the pair to leave for Gondor in defiance of their father’s ‘no-interference’ decision. Both lads are now pressed into kitchen duties under their nana’s watchful eye. There has been a bumper crop of summer fruit this year which need preserving. The kitchen-maids will need all the help they can get.

Eldacar was a nice boy when he visited Imladris with his parents as part of the Gondorion envoy. I recall Celebrian and his mother forming a fast friendship in the kitchens as their sons hunted. The Northman-style spicy lamb stew is still a staple dish at a Yule feast in Imladris to this day. Lady Celebrian really missed the princess when her ailing health stopped her from traveling. She was alright, I guess, for a non-Dunedain mortal, a pity about the short lifespan part though.

I digress – back to the Kin-strife. I hope things would not deteriorate to such an extent we have to intervene. I seriously doubt King Amroth, whose realm is nearer to Gondor, would raise a finger. So why should we? It has been many cycles of the sun since Elros Tar-Minyatur passed and surely Lord Elrond has seen the futility of babysitting these wayward descendants of his brother’s line by now.

Also note the high likelihood of the reserve guard of Imladris being mustered should Captain Fin win out on his request for an expedition down south… Ai, ai, Lord Manwe have mercy on this poor elf…

_(Figwit sprints out to the household shrine to offer prayers to Eru and the Valar to keep him away from any fighting)_

* * *

 

_Imladris, Quelle, T.A. 1437_

Dear Journal

Captain Glorfindel and the twins keeping themselves amused hunting trolls and orcs in the Misty Mountains and the northern reaches of the valley all summer to cope with not being able to rescue their friend Eldacar thanks to the no-intervening stance Elrond is enforcing. We simply lack the numbers for a proper marching army in Imladris, even if the ellyth and elflings were to bear arms, and it is not like we can borrow one from our neighbours. It will never do to leave our sweet haven exposed and unguarded.

Maglor stumbled in with Gildor’s party after having roamed the wilds east of the mountains for many a season, skirting Mirkwood, of course. They brought some good news in that Eldacar has found refuge with his mother’s people. Sadly, his heir was not so fortunate. Seriously, even Maedhros the Mad drew the line at slaughtering his cousins. Sweet Elbereth, according to Maglor, they had to stop him from gutting Celegorm and Curufin after that debacle ending with Finrod as werewolf chow. Eh, half-cousin outranks full brother? I suppose that is understandable if the cousin involved was Fingon. The Second-born seem to be afflicted with the need to shorten each other’s already short lives. I don’t know about whether there is some accounting waiting beyond Arda for them, but the Eldar take a very serious view of Kinslaying – enough to call down the Doom of Exile on their heads for an Age.

Gildor tried to lighten the mood with tales of his past encounters with Ents, dwarves and hill-men known as Woses. Then Maglor had to ruin the mood by mentioning how his brothers enjoyed hunting petty-dwarves after being introduced to the sport by the Mithrim elves. Hope you remember not to mention that when we have Dwarves visiting. A Noldor of the party spoke of some Tom Bombadil chap and how they enjoyed hanging out with him. Maglor, being in an awfully dark mood, reminded everyone of how his nephew wound skewered up on a pole by hanging out with weird folk.

After conferring with the other Lords of the Elven Realms via letter, the Eldar have decided to let Eldacar sort out his own problems with his kingship despite his rout at Osgiliath. Castamir is not exactly falling over himself to send us emissaries of goodwill.

King Amroth and Lord Celeborn would increase their border guard in Lorien. They have heard enough from refugees fleeing the Kin-strife as to what manner of man Castamir is. Lady Galadriel is of the opinion the man is too fond of spilling blood. Lord Cirdan’s fleet awaits up north in Lune but the Gondor navy holds sway in the south. Complaints from the dwindling Havens of Anduin about leaving elf-ships being harassed by Castamir’s men – at least until they learn elf-ships can be a good deal swifter than they look. 

Still, the remaining mariners have decided to stop sailing for a bit and move upriver to Lothlorien. What’s a century or so more to us? Urgent cases have been granted leave to pass to Mithlond via Eriador and Gildor’s party are making plans to scout out a suitable passage to Mithlond once the weather allows in spring.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 1447_

Dear Journal

The true king has returned to Gondor after a magnificent battle on the Crossings of Erui which saw Eldacar cleave the usurper’s head from his trunk… Well, the way the Feanorion speaks, makes me wonder if he had disregarded Lord Elrond’s policy of non-interference and spent his summer in Gondor alongside Eldacar’s army. Regrettably, it would seem that the day was dearly bought and the Siege of Pelargir failed to stop the flight of Castamir’s sons across the sea to Umbar. May Osse take them and use their bones for toothpicks.

Another note of joy is the return of our Lady Arwen from Lothlorien after an extended stay with her grandparents. Looking at her now, you could not see the imp who once so terrorized the household with her bow. With each passing cycle of the sun she seems to take more after her foremother Luthien in both beauty and wisdom. The twins are thrilled to have their sister back and all is as it should be in the Last Homely House…

If it weren’t for that ongoing war with Angmar up north…

The Istari have called once more upon Lord Elrond. Mithrandir and his muddy critter-hugging pal this time. Our lord would be talking shop with Mithrandir in the study all night. Aiwendil seems to be more interested in hiding his ferrets up inconvenient places – like Maglor’s pants. Wizard or not, the Feanorion is not amused. Fin had to stop Maglor from sending Aiwendil to Mandos with a cudgel.

Our captain is chafing to be let loose on the forces of Angmar and relive his First Age glory days of battling the Shadow’s forces. Maglor reminded him that charging headlong into battle is not especially sane at times and brought up the case of Uncle Fingolfin’s duel. Fin retorted that the Feanorions did not fare too well themselves seeing how quickly Maedhros’ battle plans flew apart. Maglor then replied that if Turgon had actually committed his forces instead of leaving most of them at home and showing up late, High King Fingon might not have been stomped to death by orcs. Then Fin plays the Kinslayer card…  

Wish they could continue their discussion tomorrow morning as the ruckus from their quarrel and sparring practise in the training yard below my window is keeping this poor elf awake.

_(Figwit yanks his blanket over his head as loud ringing of steel on steel and insults break the peaceful Rivendell night)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maglor is a grouch at times, comes from being under a Doom. I like the notion of the two First Age warriors sparring.


	27. The Road to the Shire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reluctant Figwit is dragged out of Imladris when the twins get curious about the Shire.

_Bree, Laire, T.A. 1601_

Dear Journal

Despite my strong misgivings, I have been dragged on this trip by my twin lords who wanted to scout out the new ‘Shire’ granted to the halflings by King Agreleb II. Along the way we broke our journey at this trading post of Bree at the crossroads of the highways. The place has grown much from its early days – a couple of shacks – the last time I passed here with Lord Elrond. The place now has a half-decent inn with actual beds. The last time we were roughing it in someone’s barn next to our horses, better than sharing pallets with rats.

Thankfully, the rooms in the _Prancing Pony_ are a good deal cleaner than those of its predecessor, despite the hard times. Outside the inn, the place is still a bit of a mud-hole when it pours. Unfortunately, we got caught in a summer shower. At least they have hot water here to wash with. Understand from old Butterbur that trade is not as good as in earlier times with recent wars. Still, I spotted some dwarves in the taproom.

The twins insist on playing at being Men- hiding their ears and singing raucous drinking songs after dinner with the locals and dwarves. Manwe, can they kick up a ruckus! Me? Despite the attention my ears are getting, especially of the innkeeper’s brood, I am proud of being an Elf and see no point hid- _(ink blot)_

I just had my ears slapped by some half-grown imp. Yikes! Leave my ears be! Shoo! Off with you brats before I get your old man to spank you! Argh! How did you get up there! Scram!

_(A livid Figwit chases a knot of squealing youngsters out of his room)_

* * *

 

_Some Creepy Old Forest, Laire, T.A. 1601_

Dear Journal

Had a late start due to the twins having a monster hangover. Nightfall has found us stranded among some creepy old trees. Once more, I am certain the old willow yonder is telling us to go away… No, I did not trip and fall face-first into the mud, the wretched tree tripped me on purpose.

Thank goodness we ran into an old friend – Tom Bombadil, who has kindly agreed to put us up for the night in the cosy little house he shares with his lady… Hey, it isn’t fair! Eru, how could Mister Roly-Poly dances with water-lilies be blessed with such a vision of beauty as his wife- and a great cook too. And I am left single for nigh an Age? What happened to meeting your the eternal soul-mate part?

Ai Valar, if you would be so kind as to bless me with a wife as fair and gentle as Bombadil’s. She should be great at housework and cooking too, if you don’t mind me asking. 

* * *

 

_The Shire? Laire, T.A. 1601_

Dear Journal

We have arrived in the area known as the Shire. Lord Manwe, it is the boondocks here. The halflings live in holes running into the hillside and they are not too welcoming of normal-sized folk, even Men. I doubt they had seen an Elf before. Met Mithrandir there and he persuaded one of these hobbits to show us about – not that there is anything to see apart from fields of ripening crops waiting to be harvested. Actually, it is quite fair a land. Not as impressive as Lothlorien or Imladris though. Far too rustic. Then we encountered a spot of rain.

Master Boggins has kindly agreed to put us up for the night, in his mill thankfully, not his warren. I have no idea how the four of us can possibly fit in there. Still sharing close quarters with old Mithrandir and my lords is a bit of a squeeze. Elladan keeps kicking me and Elrohir keeps snoring. Mithrandir’s staff keeps poking me in the back… at least I hope it’s his walking stick…

I can’t wait be back snug in my own sweet bed in Imladris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boggins- no relation to Baggins. Seriously.


	28. The Great Plague

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Great Plague ravages Middle Earth but elven Imladris is spared the worst.

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 1635_

Dear Journal

Ah Eru! Please grant us the fortitude to talk Lord Elrond out of his folly! The whispers of plague in Osgiliath have reached us via Lady Galadriel. The source seems to come from east beyond the accursed land of Mordor. The whole thing smacks of the Shadow and Elrond is thinking of journeying down to investigate. Erestor is trying to talk him out of it.

We have gone through plagues before. This is probably your seasonal flu. Why, there is probably a natural balance to it- keeping the Mannish populations in check. It is pointless, really. The last time local Mannish village had a lung-fever epidemic, my lord opened up the House of Healing to the sick, and a third of them died all the same despite the healers’ best efforts. Before they passed, they made a right mess, pooping and puking all over the place.

Master Elrond, why don’t you take it easy? With a plague on their doorstep, the Gondorians will not be sending any tedious windbag envoys our way this cycle of the sun. This plague will just breeze past Imladris like all the other ones. We elves need not fear it unlike our Mannish neighbours. Laugh and be merry with your lady. Pop out a couple more elflings- wait, scratch that last part. I am so done with being babysitter. 

* * *

 

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 1635_

Dear Journal

After a spirited objection from Lady Celebrian, Lord Elrond has decided to remain in peaceful Imladris, and mostly in their bedchamber, to the twins’ chagrin. Bets are being placed as to whether there will be a new addition to the family this time next year. No news as to what Arwen thinks in far-off Lothlorien.

More disturbing news has reached Imladris from Mirkwood and Lothlrien. This plague has already ravaged the Mannish settlements in the realms of Rhovanion and Rhun. Many of the garrisons watching Mordor are now abandoned for the soldiers are dropping like flies. Minas Anor is now the new capital as Osgiliath is now abandoned thanks to the plague.

We have had news from Gildor’s band who had taken the less-than-scenic route through Gondor this season. Rotting corpses everywhere. Brings back many First Age memories and grief for poor Gildor. He was hastily sent into the House of Healing with his fellows after he collapsed at the entrance to the valley. Only the Feanorion seems un-afflicted, but he was laid up too after Glorfindel mistook him for a warg when he came running for help dressed in that wolf-skin cloak. A little higher with the blade and Maglor would be passing the time with his brothers in Mandos.

Thankfully, Mithrandir breezes in and is able to assist in the recovery of the band’s waning spirits, thus saving them from fading or having to sail. Apparently, Eru is not done with kicking Gildor and friends about Middle Earth yet. No complaints about the plague from the Dwarves though. No sign of them neither. I suppose they shut themselves into their mountain halls as soon as they heard the word ‘plague’.

The plague is cutting a path through Cardolan and the Shire as I read, bypassing our fair vale thankfully. At the rate things are going, we Elves might be the only Children of Iluvatar left in Middle Earth, and maybe those annoying dwarves…

* * *

 

_Imladris, Coire, T.A. 1636_

Dear Journal

A piece of good news finally. The plague seems to have burnt itself out as it spread north and west towards Fornost. Fewer deaths reported among the Dunedain of Arthedain. Alas, the last of their Cardolanian cousins seem to have perished on the Barrow-downs. Last autumn, Glorfindel had to chase some wolves off their corpses and give them a decent burial. Well, as decent as one could having to share a barrow with someone else since Fin was in a bit of a hurry. He just broke open one, stuffed the bodies in and covered them up with earth.

I believe our captain might be to blame for the shades the folk at Bree are whispering about. I guess Fin might have just angered some folks with his disregard for proper burial rites – at least dump a load of rocks on them to keep them from walking like Butterbur says.  

The very thought is bringing on the shivers- just like those tales Haldir told us about the faces of the fallen of Dagorland showing up in the Dead Marsh – elf, man and orc alike- as ghostly lights. Or the story of Morwen weeping on her isle as told by Cirdan’s mariners.  Oh my, I wish I did not think of those tales, now I need to go sit in the Hall of Fire with Lindir. At least Lindir would not scare me with any creepy tales…

Wait, what’s this? Where’s Lindir? In the House of Healing after falling off the roof? Who’s singing tonight? The Feanorion? Can we have something light pretty please? No, you wish to honour the fallen throughout the Ages by recalling their trials and darkest hours? There will be balrogs, werewolves, dragons and vampires in there?

_(Figwit spends the night cowering as Maglor lets loose with a veritable horror-thon of scary tales, much to the delight of his other listeners.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No more elflings for Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian but who says the couple cannot have some fun. Glorfindel is entirely blameless where the barrow-wrights are concerned.


	29. Planting a Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Figwit witnesses the planting of the White Tree in Minas Anor and is not impressed. Glorfindel likes the Northwomen he encounters.

_Minas Anor, Laire, T.A. 1640_

Dear Journal

Mithrandir the meddler has convinced my lord it will be a great idea to make a trip down to Minas Anor to oversee the planting of a tree. A seedling of the White Tree that perished a couple cycles of the sun ago during the Great Plague was found growing out of a flower bed planted by the late King Telemnar’s daughters. King Tarondor has extended an invite to Imladris and Fornost to witness the replanting of the tree to a place of honour other than under the old bedroom of some dead princess.

Men can be such oafs. Tarondor’s men almost hacked the roots off poor sapling before Elrond’s gardener had to step in and show them the proper way of transplanting a seedling without killing it. King Tarondor insisted on planting the seedling himself. He dropped it twice on the way to the court and almost squished it with his big shovel when patting down the earth. Lady Yavanna must be weeping. I will be surprised if the poor sapling survives till spring.

It is official now. Minas Anor is the capital of Gondor and they have a scion of Nimloth to prove it. Can we all go home now?

* * *

 

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 1856_

Dear Journal

Just when you think the population of Men have been checked by the plague, their numbers are growing again. Apparently, the Second-born are like rabbits when it comes to reproducing. Then everyone gets back into the business of war to get the population back down. We have attacks by Easterlings, Corsairs and all hostile tribes starting out anew on our allies in Gondor. Also having the occasional skirmish with Angmar up north despite a rout a couple of years ago. Letters flying between Fornost and Minas Anor about a treaty between the North and South but no agreement reached yet. We elves are sitting all this out as far as possible. We have better things to do than indulge in childish quarrels.

Lord Celeborn of Lothlorien reports Northmen migrations into the Vales of the Anduin under some treaty of friendship with Gondor. Like always, Mithrandir has gone to check out the newcomers and taken the twins and Fin with him. Had a hard time persuading Glorfindel to return – silly elf took a shine to the blond and bosomy Northwomen. Still sworn duty trumps romps in the haystacks. Our wizard whacked him with some sleeping spell and they carted him home.

Problem is, the wizard put too much oomph into the spell and two weeks after his return, Fin is still sleeping like a baby. Guess who is the lucky elf assigned to look after him? Gah, I have to wash and feed him soup. Mithrandir could have at least put on a spell to wake him up before taking off with his critter-loving pal. The twins? They nipped off to escort their sister home from Lothlorien. 

Still, I think Fin would not mind me having a bit of fun at his expense… A bit of ink and painting…

_(Glorfindel wakes up just as Figwit finishes painting his face. Seeing his reflection in a mirror and Figwit with a dripping paintbrush, Glorfindel shows his appreciation of the face paint by ducking Figwit in the fountain)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figwit is a bit childish.


	30. The Last King of Arnor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last king of Arnor and chances lost. The last kingdom of ancient Arnor falls as the Witch-king is driven back for now.

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 1940_

Dear Journal

In a feat never thought possible, the lines of Isildur and Anarion will be joined, ushering in a new era of peace and prosperity – or so Lord Elrond hopes. He is pleased to hear that the stubborn Council of Gondor has relented and agreed to allow Lady Firiel, daughter of King Ondoher undertake the long sea-journey to Fornost to be wife to the ill-named Prince Arvedui. She did drop by Imladris with her parents as a child, a dumpy duckling she was. I sincerely hope the prince knows what he is in for. At least if he were to be the last of his line, he could have asked for a hot chick as his wife.  

I am sure the rumours of an unfortunate incident the last time Arvedui was visiting Minas Anor in T.A. 1937 are overrated. Surely Firiel would be too plain to interest the prince, much less get with his child… Or that might explain how Ondoher managed to arm-wrestle the Council into agreeing to the treaty. I thought he took an axe to them to get them to see sense…

Holy Manwe! What do you mean we need prepare a present for the next heir to the Arnorian throne? So soon? When is he expected? Perhaps an elf-crafted cradle or rattle will do the trick. T.A. 1938? Sweet Eru! The babe’s attending his parents’ wedding as guest of honour? Why are Elrond, Celebrian and Erestor smiling about such a scandalous matter – wait, Erestor did drop by Gondor with congratulatory greetings from Imladris about the same time Arvedui’s father sent his son as envoy…

You sneaky matchmakers… Why didn’t you at least get Arvedui to change his name to something luckier?

* * *

 

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 1944_

Dear Journal

Grim news came this summer from Minas Anor. King Ondoher is dead and so are all his sons. Right, including the one he specifically left at home just in case. Little prat sneaked out to join the war and got himself killed. Too bad. There is no glory getting your skull kicked in by a warhorse, your own because you are a lousy rider. Someone should have suggested chaining him up in his own dungeons, like Elrond was forced to do with the twins after their latest escapade. However, methinks it was Arwen who put them up to it.

Well, Arwen felt a bit sorry for poor Prince Faramir buried in some grave mound with the fallen Eotheod soldiers instead of with his forebears in Minas Anor. So she decided it would be a great idea to ride over the mountains to dig up someone’s grave mound. After talking their sister out of a bad idea, the twins thought it would be a good idea to carry out the mission themselves, only to be stopped from leaving the valley in the middle of a heavy snowstorm by our Feanorion.

I digress again- King Arvedui Last-of-his-line decided to make a claim on the kingship of Gondor as Isildur’s descendant and by his marriage to the sole surviving child of King Ondoher. The Council of Gondor was not too amused – the last time he was in Minas Anor, he was poking their princess. Basically, they told his envoy to shove off and decided to crown one general Earnil and distant cousin of Ondoher king instead. The invite has arrived and the ceremony is in spring.

I must go check on the twins in the cellar. Those clanging noises are getting annoying. They should be thankful they only got a week in the cellar instead of the recommended a hundred lashes in public suggested by a ticked-off Feanorion. They had to try running him down with their horses in the snowstorm.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 1976_

Dear Journal

Cirdan sends his regrets regarding the fact that Arvedui has lived up to his name and is no more. His son Aranarth is drinking to his ada’s memory, in between cursing ships, foolhardy mariners and the icy Bay of Forochet. Seriously, no one expected that damned ship to sink… Well, maybe Malbeth the Seer and a couple of snowmen… Though the Witch-king of Angmar has been driven off and the power of Angmar broken for now, the cost to the Dunedain has been dear indeed. Fornost and the cities of the north are in ruins. Aranarth has one massive task ahead of him in terms of rebuilding his kingdom. Also lost the last of the palantiri when Arvedui’s ship went down… well, guess even the mighty Dunedain of the north will have to rely on their Mannish skills now instead of some fancy artefact from Numenor.

Eh? Our heir to Arnor is giving up the kingship? And Lord Elrond agrees? What happened to fight against the Shadow? You can’t just leave Eriador open to be overrun by the creatures of darkness once more! Elladan, Elrohir, why are you two smiling? Hey, this is no time to go hunting. Oh, you are thinking of forming the remaining Dunedain into some nomadic unit? Who wants to live in tents and off horses all year round? It will never work out…

At least Gondor is still fighting fit and Glorfindel did stop one reckless heir to the throne from getting himself killed. I doubt King Earnil II will appreciate his son ending up dead thanks to the Witch-king. Speaking of which, what happened back there, Glorfindel? You could have put an end to our foe from Angmar and you let him go? Did you get kicked in the head by a horse? You finally had Lord Elrond grant your wish to lead our Elven army from Imladris out to do battle alongside Prince Earnur. It was your chance for glory and you let him go when you could have slain him with your mighty Light of Valinor! Don’t go all coy with that prophecy thing…

Wait, I did not spend the entire campaign cowering in Imladris. I did not ride out with you because Lord Elrond needed me here to run the Last Homely House. Lindir stayed too… Oh, you were just joking? You really think I am a brave warrior? Argh! Don’t go put me down for the next sortie out to hunt wargs! Fin!

_(Figwit is put down for orc-hunts and patrols for the next millennium by a bemused Captain Glorfindel)_


	31. Moria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An ancient evil awakes in Moria. Galadriel gets her wish for her own realm. The Feanorion is disturbed by the discovery of a great gem in the delving of Erebor.

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 1980_

Dear Journal

Now those fool Dwarves have done it. In their mindless greed for mithril, they have delved too deep into the earth and uncovered some unspeakable horror from the Elder days. Gildor’s company has encountered some of these refugees and brought the news to Lord Elrond. Khazad-dum is lost and its inhabitants are fleeing. Elrond is offering shelter and aid to any Dwarves passing to the Blue Mountains but they must prefer _The Prancing Pony_ ’s ale to the healing restfulness of Imladris.

This evil has also touched the hearts of the Silvans who dwell east of the Misty Mountains and a great many are headed down the Anduin to sail. Lord Celeborn sent word. King Amroth will depart with his chosen Nimrodel. They would be joining the exodus to the Havens of Anduin and sail from Belfalas. I guess no one will really notice the difference. After all, it has always been Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel doing the hard work.

Hm, I wonder what this horror could be? Some creature of Morgoth’s from the First Age and before or some evil even more ancient? Maglor spoke of encountering a many-tentacled creature once when he was journeying in Harad. The beast took two of his fellow travellers before they got the caravan far enough from the water. There are some things even a Feanorion will not mess with and this was one of them.

Thankfully, whatever terror the Dwarves awoke seems content to remain in the pits of Moria. I hope they remembered to close their gates before running off.

* * *

 

 

_Lothlorien, Tuile, T.A. 1982_

Dear Journal

We have journeyed to Lothlorien this spring to witness the official instatement of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel as leaders of the Galadhrim and Lothlorien after a decent mourning period for her former king. King Amdir must be turning over in Mandos. Poor Amroth has managed to best himself again in the field of utterly embarrassing gaffes.

First, news came that in his haste to get to Belfalas, Amroth became separated from his beloved and most of her entourage in a blizzard crossing the White Mountains. Hello, elves are in tune with nature. You should have seen that a mile away. And why were you even batting about the mountains so late in the year when other elves were rafting down the Anduin with ease?   

Without waiting for his lady and her household, he boards a ship for Aman. Then in his usual wishy-washy manner regrets his decision and tries to swim for shore, forgetting he cannot swim in the first place. Forgive me but that Sinda is a right embarrassment to all Elf-dom. I suppose if his lady saw that, I have no doubt she will be reconsidering her decision to bind to him.

Gossips have it that Amroth’s lady was seen kicking about with some of those Hobbit critters – some family called Tuk or Took. Well, there was a story about a mortal man from Belfalas wedding a Silvan maiden. Apparently, not all Silvans are that keen to leave Middle Earth yet.

I digress – Lady Galadriel is thrilled at finally been recognized as a ruler in her own right. Lord Celeborn wisely decided to have her as co-ruler instead of consort as in Eregion. If he didn’t, methinks he will be sleeping outside the talan until Arda is unmade. The little ones are thrilled with Mithrandir’s firework displays but isn’t it in bad taste? I mean, officially you became a near-queen because of Amroth’s tragic demise. Well, you did honour him with a skit of his life and a ballad on his doomed romance. I suppose it evens it out.

* * *

 

 

_Imladris, Quelle, T.A. 1999_

Dear Journal

The Feanorion brings news to Imladris of a new Dwarven realm – Erebor. However, he is horribly disturbed by something other than the fact he almost lost a leg to a hungry warg crossing the mountains. Apparently those dwarves found some large gem excavating their new halls and are going all ga-ga about it.  Thranduil has sent word too. He is not too keen on having Darrow-kind so close to his realm but he would tolerate them so long as they keep out of his forest.

The wise ones of Imladris are conferring in Elrond’s study about the origins of that gem. Mithrandir is in attendance too but he is being very cryptic about it. ‘A gemstone is just that'. And stuff. Maglor thinks it could be one of the cursed jewels his crazy old ada made in the Elder Days – the one his mad brother took with him into a fiery chasm. I understand. It is painful thinking of your brother’s remains being dug up by Dwarves. Can’t you Feanorions create something that is not cursed? Thankfully Celebrimbor had enough foresight to craft three elven rings without Sauron’s help.

Lord Elrond shrugs off the theory of the Silmaril and the Dwarves’ gem as being one and the same. However, he does admit that the mere existence of such a treasure may spell trouble for the line of Durin in the future. He firmly counsels Maglor against going to Erebor to prove or disprove the gem is the Silmaril. I understand where he is coming from. Can never be too careful given the Silmaril’s history of attracting trouble.

I do not know why Glorfindel is tasked with keeping an eye on Maglor while he heals in the House of Healing. It’s not as though the Oath of Feanor is coming back to haunt him right? There will be no more Kinslaying or stuff, right? Maglor, mellon nin, you will not creep in and knife me as I sleep, right?  

_(Figwit gets up to check the locks on his door and dons a chain-mail shirt before turning in.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, poor Amroth comes off second-best. The Fates must hate him. I have slipped in the legends of the elf-ancestress in the Dol Amroth princes. 
> 
> Yes, Figwit trusts Maglor so much. Glorfindel is just there to make sure Maglor heals up before taking off on his wanderings again. In my canon, the Arkenstone and Silmaril are not the same, although some fan theory claim otherwise.


	32. Heirs and Stewardship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The line of Anarion fails in Gondor but the Chieftain of the Dunedain is not keen on claiming the kingship, opening the way for the Ruling Stewards.

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2013_

Dear Journal

Why me? Lord Elrond has struck a deal with the former Prince Aranarth, now Chieftain of the Dunedain, to care for his son and heir whilst he is roaming the wilds of the ancient North Kingdom killing orcs and keeping everyone else safe. Guess who is babysitting? That’s right, lucky me. Look on the bright side, Mannish children grow up fast and in twenty years or so, he will be out there killing orcs with his adar.

I am sure there is no truth to what Erestor said about the future heirs of Isildur’s house being sent here to be fostered. There can be no benefit for a chieftain’s son to be cooped up in Imladris with only a couple of elves for company. Who knows? Aranarth will tire of his adventuring and settle down with his wife and kid on a nice farmstead before then. One can always hope. Er, is it too late to start out for Mithlond to sail?

* * *

 

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 2050_

Dear Journal

Ai Valar! After all the trouble Fin went to saving his bacon from the Witch-king during the Angmar Wars, King Earnur had to go offer himself up on a silver platter. Elrond is dismayed but not too surprised. Perhaps losing all that land to the Shadow, plus one fancy tower - Minas Ithil- upset the proud king of Gondor. It would have been helpful if he had left an heir behind but no…   

Someone find Aranarth and suggest to him it is time to reclaim his birth-right down south. His naneth was descended from a king of Anarion’s line after all. It would be better than having the realm of Gondor falling to the Shadow, carved up by petty nobles (remember Gildor said Earnur granted some land to some Prince Galador guy who claimed his nana was an elf) or…

Wait, they're having the King’s Stewards rule in his stead until the king returns? Manwe! That might be forever! Not to mention it will give Erestor ideas about Imladris…  I reassure you I have no desire to rule Imladris. Eru, managing one young one is more than enough for this elf. What more an entire valley of quarrelsome, sneaky and petty elves?  

Hm, Lord Melpomaen does have a certain ring to it…

* * *

 

_Imladris, Quelle, T.A. 2051_

Dear Journal

The Chieftain of the Dunedain finally rode in with his rangers for the winter. Yes, he had heard the news about poor Earnur. No, he is not interested in going down south to be bored out of his mind by council meetings and stuff. He is enjoying himself ranger-ing or whatever it is. His sons seem to be enjoying this lifestyle too, a tad too much. Elrond, do something!

I don’t want Imladris turned into a nursery for the Dunedain chieftains of the future, especially since they would most probably be making Uncle Mel’s life a living hell. Erestor looking a bit green too since Elrond charged him with educating the young ones. Arahael was a tad slow in picking up Quenya.

Only one on the household staff who seems to be thrilled is Glorfindel. He did enjoy drilling the finer points of archery, sword-fighting and military strategy into the boy as soon as he could lift a bow. Why doesn’t he go settle with a nice elleth and pop out a few little warriors of his own to take adventuring? I guess he is looking forward to an eager new student every half century or so now. Just try not to get them killed. Our Lord Elrond will not be pleased if that happens. 


	33. No Peace for the Weary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Watchful Peace begins but all is not peaceful for poor Figwit with his Mannish charges.

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 2063_

Dear Journal

Mithrandir just waltzed in after a long absence with the announcement that he has driven the Necromancer from Dol Guldur and the Shadow from Mirkwood. Well, excuse me if I am not letting off fireworks. It took an entire army to best Morgoth’s forces and a tired old man like you just cleansed the evil from Dol Guldur just like that?

Legolas’ joy is tempered as well. His folk are the ones who have been taking the brunt of the spiders and other dark critters of Mirkwood – well, it was your ada’s decision to hole up in that forest. Perhaps the Silvans are right to be wary. Think you could help out the dwarves with their problem in Moria? No? Well, it was their fault for awakening some ancient evil.

As usual Elrond, Mithrandir, Fin and Thranduil’s envoy Prince Legolas are holed up in the study discussing stuff. Celeborn was due to arrive but he was held up in Lothlorien – some nonsense about being too sore to sit in a saddle after falling out of a flet. Pull the other one, Celeborn. We know what you and your lady play at.

Prince Legolas does seem to be far more mature than Elrond’s boys. The twins have gone drinking with the Rangers in Bree with plans to ride over to the new Mannish settlements popping up east of the mountains in spring - Carrock, Dale and places. Hope they do not run into the dragons the Feanorion spoke of encountering up north the last time he was in the Imladris.

Lindir and the Feanorion are planning a little song-off in the Hall of Fire tonight, much to the delight of the household and guests – so long as Maglor steers clear of the Noldolante. That’s depressing stuff. He has been working on a new ballad in Sindarin about some Mannish dragonslayer – _Fram and the Wyrm_. I did not like the part about the hero getting killed by a mob of dwarves at the end though but Maglor insisted it stays to be true to history. What? Mighty warrior slays a dragon then gets slain by some angry dwarves? Lo, Eru must have some weird sense of humour.

Still looking forward to the sing-off though. Even with Arwen accompanying him on her harp, poor Lindir will be trounced so hard, he might have to eat his lyre.  

* * *

 

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 2088_

Dear Journal

Little Aranuir, the Chieftain’s heir, has a case of the scarlet fever. Elrond is frantic and put him on a strict course of medicine. Little one is cranky and being difficult. Why do mortals have to fall ill at the most inconvenient times? Instead of joining everyone at the Yule Feast, I am stuck playing nursemaid. Oh, his nana passed from the scarlet fever earlier after catching it from her sister but not before passing it to her son.

Er, Elrond… full elves don’t catch scarlet fever, do we? Elrond? Is the only reason why I am locked here in the nursery until Aranuir recovers with no other visitors because you need to enforce quarantine on the patients for the sake of the other mortals visiting for the winter, right? Erestor, why are you slipping us food and drink through a flap in the door? This is not funny!

* * *

 

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 2166_

Dear Journal

My charge Aravir decided to go ride out after his adar on Elladan’s horse and took a tumble from the saddle down the hillside. Elrond reassures us that his broken legs will heal and he will be up and running about before long. Elrond, could you keep him in bed until he is old enough to leave Imladris with his ada and the Rangers? Uncle Mel cannot keep up with the boy…

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2232_

Dear Journal

Young Aragorn rode a barrel off the waterfall after being inspired by the twins’ tales of their childhood. The twins helped steal the barrel from the kitchen. Glorfindel is not amused to say the least having to fish a half-drowned boy out of the Bruinen and neither is Elrond. It was not my fault. The twins promised to look after the youngster… Oh, right. Always trust the twins to get into mischief with a young one about. Please tell me this is the long foretold one so that we can pack him off to Gondor already. 

The twins have been sent to Mirkwood for the next ten years where hopefully they would catch some of Legolas' maturity. Or they piss off King Thranduil and end up as spider bait.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it is a bit of a miracle any of the heirs survived long enough to produce sons. Figwit has his hands full. 
> 
> Aragorn here is referring to Aragorn I.


	34. Tinfang Warbler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maglor takes a trip to verify the origins of the Arkenstone and ends up starting a new life in Mirkwood.

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 2232_

Dear Journal

I admit it has been a bit soon for me to write in you once more but we have received astounding news from the twins in Mirkwood. It’s regarding our Feanorion. He has been a guest in Thranduil’s halls since the fall of T.A. 2210. Not sure when he was last in Imladris though. It could have been a century ago or so. It seemed that that ancient Oath was bothering Maglor big time so he took himself off to Erebor to check out this Arkenstone thing and succeeded in riling up Durin’s folk. It was not a Silmaril but Maglor was horrified by the crude way the gem was cut and apparently insulted the entire race of Longbeards. Well, no one can match Feanor’s legendary skill.  

No Dwarves were slain but he did cause enough damage for King Thorin I to up his entire city for the Grey Mountains. Either that or they have depleted the iron ore and gold in the Lonely Mountain. Being an elf and mistaken for one of Mirkwood, Thorin sent a complaint to Thranduil about his misbehaving subject. Prince Legolas took the Feanorion in and locked him in the dungeon where he was conveniently forgotten, well not really. Legolas did arrange for healers to see to his hurts – angry dwarves with axes you know.  

Apparently, Maglor is made of stern stuff and pulled through with only a couple of new scars. Oh, and having his hair turn white, including his beard - because apparently Eru has a thing for messing about with bearded elves in Middle Earth. Just ask Cirdan. He is tasked with building ships but never sailing until probably when Arda breaks. 

After which things got a bit murky. The Silvans of Mirkwood, most of whom are born after the War of Wrath, love his music and he is now known as Tinfang the Warbler. Thranduil is miffed but he cannot kick the most popular minstrel out of Mirkwood without precipitating an uprising by his people.

Fie, Maglor. And poor Lord Elrond was so worried about you. You could have at least sent us a falcon to let us know. You might be interested to know Fin spent many a month on the trail looking for your whereabouts on the west of the Misty Mountains. Erestor has taken over your quarters here in Imladris (the fancy digs Elrond put aside, not the stables).  

Oh, Lady Galadriel was looking for you some years back. Said she had some premonition about you getting your skull split open by some dwarf axe. Her recommendation was for you to keep away from dwarves. I guess she is a lot fonder of you than she claims to be. Thranduil should be wary that she doesn’t poach his top minstrel out from under his nose. Still, she will have to come up with something more than a fancy talan and pretty young ellyth throwing themselves at Maglor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tinfang Gelion is a bearded Maglor? Hardly likely but who knows.  
> The top 3 elven bards - Tinfang Gelion. Daeron and Maglor.


	35. Of Men and Mortality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Figwit muses on the Gift of Men and one of his charges - Aragorn I.

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 2247_

Dear Journal

It is with great sadness that we record the passing of Aranuir at the ripe old age of 163. Is it just me or are the lifespans of the Dunedain decreasing? His father Arahael made it to 165, his grandsire Aranarth lasted to 168. The inevitable passing of the boys Lord Elrond so carefully fostered does leave a mark on the household although we were reassured that they took their deaths, the Gift of Men as Mithrandir calls it, in the manner of the Numenorean kings of yore with peace and dignity-

Oops, Arahael took his death while he could still remember to put his pants on before leaving the house and Aranarth took his when he got tired of being carted about by his sons after his legs failed.  Ah, Mannish frailty.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 2248_

Dear Journal

Why do mortals act so recklessly? At the tender age of 21, Aragorn announced his intent to court his first cousin, a maid barely into her sixteenth year. His father is not amused, especially when the lass’ parents caught our future chieftain climbing through her bedroom window. I know there is a desire to keep the bloodline pure but joining that close might have serious repercussions. Just look at how pure-blooded Gondorian Castamir turned out. Even the Noldor do not join with their first cousins. To keep him out of trouble, Elrond has sent him off on a long journey with Mithrandir to the south. Hopefully, the boy will mature along the way, if he does not get killed first. Do we have a spare heir somewhere?

P.S. Lindir is composing a ballad commemorating Aragorn’s failed courtship via bedroom window. Think it will be a hoot.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 2290_

Dear Journal

After ranger-ing about for years, Aragorn finally decided to settle down with a Dunedain lass with family ties to ancient Cardolan. She is far enough by blood to be his wife. Hopefully they will produce healthy children and the required heir. Aravir is eager to see his grandchildren before his time for the Gift comes.

The wedding is held in our very own Hall of Fire, a first for the Dunedain. Lord Elrond offered the venue as it is too bloody cold outside the valley and given the bride’s delicate condition – wait, there is a grandchild in the making? I thought that poofy gown was some weird fashion.

Holy Manwe! What do you mean the baby’s coming now? _(scrawl)_

* * *

 

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 2296_

Dear Journal

After four daughters, the line of the Chieftains is finally secured with the birth of a son to Aragorn this dawn. Sadly, the child’s naneth did not survive the birth despite Lord Elrond’s best efforts. Lady Celebrian has taken charge of caring for the child. Lady Arwen is busy consoling the girls while their adar is out venting his frustrations on the firewood with an axe.

Go easy on the wood- they ain't orcs. 

* * *

 

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 2319_

Dear Journal

News reached us of Aravir taking his death at 163 years of age after having outlived his wife, younger siblings and a few of his children. At least he did get to dandle his grandson and watch him grow into a fine young man. Aragorn is now chieftain at the age of 92. Somehow, I have a premonition his reign as chieftain will be a brief one. You know, I rather like Aragorn and his children. I will hate for anything bad to happen to them. I will offer up a prayer for his safety to the Valar and pray that my premonition is wrong.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 2327_

Dear Journal

Sweet Eru, we have just received sad news from the new Chieftain Araglas. Aragorn, Chieftain of the Dunedain is no more. I cannot fathom how wrestling hungry wolves barehanded was ever a good idea. The folly of youth I suppose. By Eldar standards, 100 is not that old. We will miss that boy. They did find enough left of him to stick into a barrow.

Fin and the twins have sought permission to ride with the Dunedain for a while, so to advise Araglas and more importantly, keep him and the bloodline of Isildur alive. Araglas has always been an easy-going, jolly fella. He isn’t exactly warrior chief material despite Fin’s best efforts – he is happier pottering about Elrond’s library or the healing rooms instead of the training yard. Heard he has delegated much of the ranger-ing business to his nephews and cousins as the first order of business after burying his ada. With some luck, his son will be more eager to take charge.

P.S. Lindir is composing an ode – _The Chieftain and the Wolf_ – to honour Aragorn at this year’s Yule feast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have made some reference to the early Numenorean kings willingly accepting the Gift of Men before Sauron lured them away from the Valar. There is little canonic information on the deaths of the Chieftains but I let Aragorn I be the first not to willingly take the Gift by virtue of his death by violent means (hungry wolves) at an early age.


	36. Boys be Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when Figwit thinks things cannot get worse for Rivendell, they play host to 3 Dunedain boys.

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2375_

Dear Journal

After ranger-ing about the North for many cycles of the sun with nary a visit, Araglas finally remembered to bring his son here to be fostered at the age of 10. Hopefully, the lad will be a little more mature. The Chieftain cooked up some tale about his nana being reluctant to let him go live with strangers and not wanting to leave her parents. What rot. He is far safer here in Imladris than running about whatever hidden village the Dunedain are currently holed up in. Lord Elrond not exactly thrilled by the oversight, given the large amount of knowledge and skills to be imparted to the lad before he comes of age.

Arahad takes after his adar- quiet and bookish. Perhaps he might master Quenya despite his late start in the subject. More worrisome is his lack of enthusiasm for the training field. Boy is griping about missing his nana and siblings. Araglas had the foresight to send along a pair of twin cousins (Hador and Huor) to keep him company. Three Mannish boys… Is it too late to volunteer for a trip to Lothlorien?

* * *

 

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 2377_

Dear Journal

We have no lack of mischief coming from the boys, and plenty of chances for Arahad to test out his healing skills on them, under Elrond’s guidance of course. Arahad seems to have a knack of mixing up the herbs and doses. He gave Erestor a headache remedy which had his tutor stuck in the privy with the runs. At least I think that was an honest mistake on Arahad’s part and nothing to do with that essay on Numenorean history Erestor set as an assignment for the lads.

Thankfully, yours truly seems to be overlooked by the imps, apart from the occasional pranks. After Arwen, vinegared wine and the old bucket of water are a cakewalk. The boys even went so far as to indulge in a bit of arson this summer – setting fire to the pig sty. The twins swore it was an accident. The bacon was quite overdone when the fire was finally put out. Lord Elrond had the trio sentenced to clean out the gunk from the common baths – before they started a flood in the cellars. Now Glorfindel has the dubious honour of drilling them in the training yard without supper.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2378_

Dear Journal

His cousins are bad influence on Arahad, period. Today he has earned the ire of Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn with his misguided attempt to steal a lock of her hair at the urging of his companions. The Lord and Lady of Lothlorien have made a visit to Imladris with their entourage. You must admit that Galadriel’s hair is unlike anything in Middle Earth. So our little Chieftain-in-training takes it upon himself to take some of that hair for his cousins.

Tried sneaking up on her before dinner but the Lady is no easy prey. Just as he was about shear off a lock, she suddenly takes off over the lawn like a deer leaving Arahad in the dust. Then he thought to creep up on her in the baths but was caught by Lady Arwen. Lord Elrond is utterly embarrassed by the behaviour of his ward. Celeborn is not amused by the fact some mere stripling thought to shear his wife’s precious tresses from her while she is in the bath. Does Araglas have another son we can use to preserve the bloodline and all? I do not fancy his chances with Galadriel’s loyal wood-elf escorts.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 2380_

Dear Journal

Mithrandir strolled into the valley with the Feanorion after many years away, just in time for Yule. As usual Mithrandir has his fancy fireworks to wow everyone and Maglor entertained with a good many songs both old and new. He has been regaling the boys with his tales and the lads are chafing to be allowed to go ranger-ing with their fathers.

Seems the Feanorion got tired of living the good life in Mirkwood. The Silvans adored their minstrel so much they did not dare risk sending him on patrols. The Feanorion got bored and joined Gildor’s band the next time they were in the vicinity. After a meandering path through Gondor and a stint in the Gondorian navy fighting off Corsair slavers, Maglor fell in with Mithrandir and was persuaded to drop by Imladris.

Outside the Elven realms, we elves are a dwindling race and few in Gondor speak of us as fact. In short, we have become lore to most save the Council and the Ruling Stewards. The Feanorion was not too keen on meeting with the current Steward after someone in the navy recognized his pointy ears as being a sign he is of the Eldar.

Araglas and the twin lords have also ridden in after dealing with some complaints of trolls in the Trollshaws and wargs about Bree. Lady Celebrian is pleased with the additional supplies they brought, even the ale. We will all be snug and comfy this winter season. 

* * *

 

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 2380_

Dear Journal

I pick up this narrative the day after my last entry. Maglor’s tales inspired the Dunedain lads to re-enact one of his battles with the Corsairs. This time, they took the Peredhil’s swords instead of their wooden toys. Boys be boys, even among Men. I recall Elladan and Elrohir once simultaneously pranked each other with itching powder in their pants… 

There is blood on the carpet that needs to be scrubbed out and Elrond is stitching Arahad’s face up. Look on the bright side. He kept his eye and I believe Dunedain chicks love scars if they come attached to a hot bod. Start training in earnest, laddie. The cousins are very apologetic and swore to be Arahad’s personal bodyguard from henceforth. Me? I bet Maglor a bottle of miruvor they would get Arahad killed before he comes of age. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler - Maglor will get that bottle of miruvor from Figwit. Arahad will live to be Chieftain and father the next heir of his line. 
> 
> I let the earlier boys be sent to Rivendell at a far younger age with their mothers or alone.


	37. The Skinchanger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas brings a guest to Imladris and the elves of Imladris encounter their first Skinchanger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Dunedain Chieftain brings another fosterling to Imladris and Legolas brings a bear.

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 2437_

Dear Journal

It never ceases to amaze me how fast the Secondborn grow up and then grow old. Arahad brought his firstborn son to Imladris to be fostered this fall. Aragost is a bright, inquisitive youngster who keeps getting into stuff. Lord Elrond claims the lad puts him in mind of his long-gone brother Elros. Well, to be honest, all I see is a dark-haired, grey-eyed bundle of trouble for me. Arahad still bears the facial scar from his boyish mishap with his cousins and has collected more since through ranger-ing. Seriously, this fighting orcs and wargs stuff is risky business. Still, Arahad’s rugged looks did not deter his lady from wedding him.

Remember the two cousins who stayed with Arahad during this fostering at Imladris? Hador passed on a couple years back – mountain troll attack – and left behind a wife and twin boys. Huor is now a grandfather after his daughter bore her first child in Bree two months ago. He did lose an eye and a hand along the way but he is doing fine otherwise as a captain of the Dunedain.   

Our twin lords are sulking as Lord Elrond has put his foot down about them going off to fight Corsairs down south. He could not do anything about Maglor though. Seriously, there are more than enough trolls, orcs and wargs to keep both you and Glorfindel occupied up North. It is the Feanorion’s own business if he feels like taking a scenic stroll through Umbar and Far Harad.

For me, I have no intention of prematurely terminating my immortal life in some hare-brained adventure when I have all the homely comforts and entertainments of Imladris to look forward to. I believe Lindir will be singing some new Silvan-influenced ballads in preparation for Prince Legolas’ visit. We are expecting our guest soon. Understand from Elrohir that King Thranduil does engage in trade with the humans living near Mirkwood - mostly wine. Seriously, the Elf-king doth like his wine too much. It is fine for an elf to enjoy a tipple or two but still…

What? How did Aragost get into the wine keg? (Ink blot) Really, aren’t you Dunedain supposed to keep an eye on him?

_(Figwit rushes to fish a very drunk and giggly boy out of the open wine keg amidst laughter from his father and very amused kinsmen.)_

* * *

 

_Imladris, Quelle, T.A. 2437_

Dear Journal

Prince Legolas strolled in with a mortal guest as soon as Arahad and his men rode off for home before the snows. Legolas chanced on Boer the hunter in the mountains with a badly infected arm and took him to Elrond for treatment. Really, the prince is too kind, even to strangers. One might never know if a helpless-looking mortal would conk you over the head than look at you. At least Boer had some pelts in his pack he used to pay for the treatment. Lord Elrond cleaned out his wounds and gave him a medicinal tincture for the fever.

We did not expect our patient to change into a bear and go snuffling about the grounds though. It created quite a stir. Lady Celebrian and Arwen were confined to their rooms for their safety. Erestor, the wimp, fainted straight away when he looked up from his books and saw a bear peering into his window. Despite what Lindir says, I definitely did not wet myself with fear. It was he who peed in the hallway. Our captain and the twins had partaken heavily of the Dorwinion at dinner and were convinced they did not really see a bear traipsing through the orangery with little Aragost on his back. The bear helpfully picking late oranges off the branches and juggling them for Aragost did not help either.

Elrond nearly threw a fit on discovering the door of his House of Healing ajar and his patient missing. When he saw the bear batting at Aragost with his large paws, Lord Elrond seized an axe and almost smashed it into the bear’s skull before Legolas stopped him from making an awful mistake.

It appears that our guest Boer is a skinchanger – a man who can take on the form of a bear. The herbal tincture Elrond administered seemed to have triggered an unforeseen transformation, which would hopefully wear off as the drug leaves his body. Legolas also confessed that he had been responsible for Boer’s injury after shooting him when he was in the guise of a bear. Being no healer, Legolas’ clumsy attempts to treat the wound only brought about an infection.

Boer the bear seems harmless enough. He allowed little Aragost to climb all over him, definitely more patient than some elves, until the little one fell asleep. Boer is a giant for a man, taller than Fin even and had found the cot in his ward too small and flimsy once he was in his bear-form. Hence he had taken himself into the gardens.    

Morning found Boer back in his man-form and very apologetic about startling the household. Lord Elrond invited him to stay till spring – so that he might heal up properly before leaving Imladris. Methinks Elrond would have an entire thesis on skinchangers by then as an addition to his vast library on the fauna of Middle Earth. Personally, I will not mind an extra pair of hands or paws babysitting Aragost. I am way too old to be keeping young ones out of trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The twins and Glorfindel must think they were really drunk. ;)  
> Boer is probably an ancestor of Beorn. Elrond definitely has a motive behind his invitation to Boer to stay till spring.


	38. Meetings in Mithlond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The White Council convenes in Mithlond and Figwit is sore he is not important enough to be considered among the Wise.

_Mithlond, Hrive, T.A. 2463_

Dear Journal

To Morgoth with it! I knew this peace was too good to last! Once more I am forced out of my sanctuary of Imladris as part of Lord Elrond’s entourage to Mithlond after Cirdan requested the convening of some Council of the Wise. Well, I will not mind that much if the old coot had extended an invitation to me, I consider myself a wise elf, but no. It was Maglor who got the invite but since the Feanorion is out Eru-knows-where, Lord Elrond decided I should come along to make up the Noldor numbers. We refrain from sending Silvans anywhere near the shore unless they are ready to sail. Sea-longing can be a real pain.

Elrond entrusted Imladris to his sons and lady-wife on Mithrandir’s advice. Was it pure chance Radagast and Mithrandir were hanging out in Imladris when that falcon came in? They were coming along for the ride. Try three weeks ploughing through sleet and camping in the open – Erestor refused to spend coin on lodgings run by non-Elves. And Radagast’s pals! Glorfindel awoke to find a writhing mass of snakes in his bedroll one morning, courtesy of Radagast – silly wizard thought his Light of Valinor would warm up his scaly pals. Elrond had to stop Glorfindel from trying to see how durable our Istar’s fana is to an Elven sword. Then there were those crazy fireworks in the campfire… Consider it Manwe’s mercy we reached Mithlond in one piece.

Mithlond has not changed much since the time of Gil-galad I suppose, apart from a couple of collapsed buildings and stuff. Only buildings in good condition are those nearest the shipyard. Galdor (the little twerp) had the nerve to put me, Erestor and Glorfindel into one measly room. I am sure the beds have bedbugs. Why do Mithrandir, Elrond and the others get proper rooms? Glorfindel is intending to sneak out to visit a certain blond noble lady tonight while her silver-haired husband catches up with his kinsman Lord Cirdan.

Oops, did I forget to mention that the Lord and Lady of Lorien given their realm to the temporary care of their granddaughter while they hit the road with their Feanorion guide disguised as merry minstrels. Hope they still have a Lothlorien to return to after all this. Next they bumped into Gildor’s party in Gondor, plus one meddlesome Istar who calls himself Saruman. Let’s just say at the end of it Galadriel insisted Saruman’s quarters be located far, far from hers least she and her cousin feel inclined to test the extent of a Maia’s immortality in its fana.

Lord Cirdan did not see fit to include me in this council meeting and I am sadly not privy to what was discussed. The Feanorion absented himself to go sing on the beach. Happily, Fin can be relied on to blab with some Dorwinion wine afterwards.

* * *

 

_Mithlond, Hrive, T.A. 2463_

Dear Journal

Attempts to weasel some dirt from Glorfindel proved disappointing as he had a date with a certain blond-haired elleth and took himself off. Happily, Erestor was feeling chatty after indulging in some Dorwinion wine. Unfortunately, he is not making much sense muttering about Isildur’s Butt or something. Well, I do recall seeing the man once, and his butt is nothing special. His thick-headedness is another matter, as Lord Elrond will attest.  

Erestor did mention they elected Saruman the White as their leader. It was a close race with Mithrandir but our Grey Pilgrim had to choose that time to try out his new weed on the fire and ended up almost smothering all the elves present with smoke. That was when everyone, save Galadriel, voted for Saruman.

Oops, Glorfindel has overplayed his hand this time – just spied him fleeing a livid Celeborn while Elrond tries to prevent a kinslaying. Lord Cirdan and Maglor – wait, are you placing bets? Count me in!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Glorfindel will survive Celeborn's wrath.
> 
> I am taking some liberties with the pipe-weed (?). Perhaps Gandalf had a hand in introducing it to the Hobbits?


	39. Shattered Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A planned visit to Lothlorien goes horribly awry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a sad one where Celebrian leaves Middle Earth after a series of incidents.

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 2509_

Dear Journal

In the cycles of the sun since the White Council meeting in Mithlond, things have taken a turn for the worse with more orcs and wargs plaguing travellers in the Misty Mountains. The Dunedain and the twins are doing their best to rid us of this scourge but they seem to keep coming. Lord Celeborn sent Arwen home to Imladris in 2498 after concerns about the ever-growing encroachment of the Northmen on the former expenses of Greenwood the Great – apparently Haldir’s kid brother Orophin spotted our lady hanging out with some Mannish youth from a nearby settlement. Galadriel was not too happy about the news. Hopefully in a decade or so they would forget about each other - that youth will probably wed some Mannish maid and pop out some brats of his own. 

Attempts to send Erestor or Glorfindel south to Gondor to renew ties with Anarion’s people firmly rebuffed by the current Steward. The Gondorian nobles do not wish for the Eldar to influence their politics on account of what happened up North. Seriously, it was not our fault and it was your king who had to run off to challenge Sauron’s minion. Or perhaps the people of Minas Tirith still recall Glorfindel’s last visit… Perhaps wise Mithrandir might open that door, or have it slam shut in his face.

Boer’s line has grown strong over the years and they made a good living in the Misty Mountains until recent orc trouble sent them into the eastern foothills. Will miss the cakes made with their special honey. I wonder if I can persuade the twins to bring a few back when they pass that way on their return from visiting Legolas next time. A few years ago, they brought back a Silvan-crafted toy horse for little Aravorn, who is not so little now. He still tends to babble a bit about a mighty eagle he saw the last time he was riding outside the valley with his adar – the eagle took him on a bit of a joyride and then left him up in a tree halfway up the Silvertine to his adar’s chagrin. Aragost still blames Mithrandir for that little debacle - took them a whole day to get his only son back down. He was tempted to kick the wizard off the mountain. Will not speculate about the big arrows he carries with him now.   

Well, I do digress but the chief reason for me breaking out the ink pot is a feeling of inexplicable unease which washes over me as I watch the ongoing preparations for Lady Celebrian’s visit to Lothlorien and her parents. It has been a while since Celebrian last saw her parents, back when they nipped by for a quick visit when Aragost was still toddling about, and she has not been to Lorien in quite a few centuries.    

Glorfindel is selecting the best of his warriors to be part of her entourage – a half dozen or so. No sense drawing too much attention with a large crowd. The Silvans of Lorien might get a bit touchy too. The Redhorn Pass might be a good bet to avoid mountain trolls rather than the High Pass – pesky things are darn hard to slay. The Feanorion took himself north to the Trollshaws to have a go at those beasties – one might fault him for being a little over-eager to see Lord Namo. Elrond is beseeching his lady to postpone her journey until later in the season. It was a heavy winter and the passes might not be fully clear yet.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2509_

Dear Journal

Sense of foreboding growing heavier over the household. Glorfindel and the twins away riding with the Rangers. Elrond confided in me that his heart is much heavy and he would like to forbid his lady from leaving the boundaries of Imladris. Alas we have dallied all we could and Celebrian is impatient to see fair Lothlorien and her parents once more. The six sturdy ellyn chosen as her guard and her two Silvan handmaids (who intend to remain in Lorien) are quite ill at ease too. Lady Arwen would like to be part of the escort but young Aravorn beseeched her to remain, reminding her she did promise the first dance to him at the upcoming festival of Midsummer. Surprised Elrond did not box the brat’s ears for that cheek.

Erestor very surprised several of the escorting guards took the unprecedented action of leaving their last will and testament with him. The last time he had to do that duty for an Elf was when Elladan got himself sick on a bad batch of Dwarrow moonshine and believed he was heading for Mandos. Pity, I really had my sights on that handcrafted chess set featuring legends of the First Age.

Only one oblivious to the unease is Lady Celebrian, who is really looking forward to being with her parents once more.  Really, she is acting like an excited little girl fussing about her gowns and stuff. Helped her pick out a Gondorian vintage from the cellar – year of 2400, a good year for the grape, I believe. Elrond prepared a bolt of fine wool for his law-mother. The wool came from the hill-goats who plagued the valley’s gardeners to no end. Tasty in mint sauce though. The mere mention of postponing the trip is enough to turn Celebrian cranky and have Elrond spending the night in his study.

I have watched Celebrian grow up from the mischievous elfling running about the streets of Lindon and Eregion to the fine lady of Imladris – I am loath for any evil to befall her. I am a sentimental fool. Surely nothing bad can happen – I will go offer up some prayers to Eru and the Valar to keep Lady Celebrian safe.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2509_

Dear Journal

Lord Manwe! Eru aid us! The household is in an uproar. Gildor’s band chanced upon a gravely-wounded ellon, one of Celebrian’s escort. The wounded ellon expired en-route to Imladris despite Gildor’s best efforts. Glorfindel and the twins have ridden forth with a band of Rangers and the news is not good at all. The rest of the guards and the maidservants were found butchered but no sign of Lady Celebrian.

Lord Elrond has sent an urgent message to Lorien (with Erestor's help) but beyond that, he is not much use now. Erestor and I trying to keep him from going to pieces - and stopping Arwen from riding out after her brothers. Some things are not for a gentle-born elleth to see, among them the aftermath of an orc attack. Excuse me, we need to administer a calming draught to our lord to stop him from climbing up the walls again. Lindir will keep an eye on Arwen – Elbereth! Aravorn just came running to say Lindir is gagged and trussed up like a Yule goose in the hallway and Lady Arwen missing... (ink blot)

_(Figwit and Erestor run off to stop Arwen from doing anything foolish – like riding out from Imladris alone.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Valar did not listen to Figwit's prayers.  
> Aravorn is Aragost's son and future 9th Chieftain of the Dunedain. Amazing how hardy the Heirs of Isildur are between their many misadventures. 
> 
> There will be a second part to this, or even a third.


	40. A Grim Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imladris reels as the household tries to deal with a gravely wounded and traumatized Celebrian.

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2509_

Dear Journal

Things in our fair valley are looking grim. Our lady of Imladris lies on the verge of fading after her sons rescued her from that foul den of orcs. It is a testament to Elrond’s skill as a healer that she has endured so long. Glorfindel’s Light of Valinor could only do that much for her poisoned wound. The twins have rooted out that nest but their vengeance is not yet sated. They have gone riding and our captain with them despite their father’s pleas. The weight of their wrath will not fall lightly on the minions of Shadow. Arwen has taken on the task of aiding her ada as he tends to his stricken wife. We fear she may need to tend to him too at the rate he is going.

Maglor drifted in this evening. The Feanorion coaxed Elrond to take some much-needed rest from his labours. Haldir arrived with the rising of Ithil. He has been sent ahead by Lady Galadriel. Apparently Celebrian’s parents encountered some orc-tracks in east of the Redhorn Pass and are determined to make sure their daughter’s fate would never befall another. Perhaps the pair will eradicate whatever remnants remain of the orcs of the Redhorn. However, they will be hastening to Imladris before fall.

Gildor Inglorion and band have hit the road once more with a promise to send word to Mithrandir should they encounter him. Mithrandir seems to be taking a real liking to the Shire these days or the Old Forest of Tom Bombadil. It is our belief that we would need the aid of the Istari for Celebrian to survive this. Without Celebrian, many of us fear for Lord Elrond. Erestor could still recall how Elros’ death had affected Elrond – something about him hiding in the library of Lindon for a month or so until Gil-galad hauled his ass out and force-fed him to keep Elrond from starving himself to death. He had another melancholic near-fading episode when his best friend and king Gil-galad got toasted by Sauron. Lord Cirdan popped him on one of his ships only to drag him off when Lord Ulmo conveyed to him Eru’s plans needed Elrond in Middle Earth. Truly, if it were not for his Mannish blood, Elrond would have faded from grief long ago. Guess Mannish blood does have its benefits.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 2509_

Dear Journal

Celeborn and Galadriel are constantly at their daughter’s bedside as she fights the effects of the poison-wound. Maglor and Lindir are taking those orc-heads and warg pelts they brought out of the valley to burn on a bonfire at Erestor’s insistence. After two weeks, they were starting to smell and the very sight of those heads on pikes befouls the air of our valley. I didn’t approve of the Galadriel’s trophies when she first set them on display but you try arguing with the Lady when her blood is up. She beat Maglor black and blue with a broomstick for not being there to protect her baby – personally, I think she was aiming to beat up Elrond but our lord could not survive a thrashing in his current state of near-collapse.

Then she went about looking for her other kinsman – Glorfindel, for letting her grandsons roam the wilds at this time. With his foresight, it is no wonder Fin decided to remain with the Dunedain over winter (besides for some busty blond maiden’s sake). The twins grim and sullen as their grandmother forbade them from leaving the valley as winter nears. Elladan has been bashing in the training dummies while Elrohir is amusing himself firing arrows at his grandmother’s trophy collection. Lady Galadriel has given me strict orders regarding the pair.

Excuse me, I need to nip a spot of heartsease from Elrond’s stores. The twins are being difficult again. Elrohir is shouting that he needs more orc-heads for his archery practice and Elladan insists he needs to go beat up more orcs. At least Aravorn’s adar came to take him off our hands for a while during this difficult time- (ink-blot)  

_(Figwit yelps as a stinking orc-head lands in his lap after being whacked through his window courtesy of a pair of very irate elf-lordlings.)_

* * *

 

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 2509_

Dear Journal

Poor Lady Celebrian is still very much troubled by her ordeal despite having healed physically. One might think Elrond pulled a fast one with his Ring. Her naneth demanded constant melodies played to soothe her spirit courtesy of Lindir and Maglor when the nightmares come. Elrond has been dosing her constantly with poppy, heartsease and other herbs to calm her ailing spirit. He is more often at her bedside than anyone else if he is not brewing up some medicine for her. This is a heavy winter indeed. The shadow has touched our sanctuary with our lady’s misfortune.

Galadriel has relented with regards to the twins. Lord Celeborn has gone orc-hunting with his grandsons to ensure they keep themselves on this side of the Sea or worse. Galadriel is of the opinion that the boys will chose the path of the Elves, not too sure about Arwen though. Fin came slinking in after a misspent week in Bree with some blond Hobbit barmaid, so he claims. I did not expect him to like them small and cute. He did not escape a sound thrashing from the mighty Lady of Lothlorien though.   

On the upside, he brought along Mithrandir. The wise Istar should be able to help Celebrian, as soon as he is done conferring with Lord Elrond. Mithrandir mentioned something about Glorfindel not seducing a Hobbit, but a travelling Dwarrowdam on a bet with some Rangers. She took a liking to him immediately and hauled him off to the nearest hayloft. Methinks we should keep an eye out for young dwarves with our captain’s golden tresses in the coming centuries. The dwarves have moved back to Erebor, so Mithrandir heard from the ravens.    

Arwen reports the stores of heartsease and athelas are running low. Doubt we can obtain fresh herbs until spring. Still, we will try the glade near the falls tomorrow. Elbereth grant that we find some athelas leaves this late in winter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Galadriel can be a very scary elleth.


	41. Farewell Celebrian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celebrian sails for Aman and the household of Imladris is sundered. She does not sail alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maglor to sail? Celebrian leaves her family behind and bids farewell to her children, especially Arwen.

_Imladris, Coire, T.A. 2510_

Dear Journal

After much heart-breaking discussion, it has been decided that Lady Celebrian must sail as soon as she is strong enough to make the journey to the Havens. Despite the brave front she has put up for the sake of her loved ones, Celebrian’s fea is overwrought and wearied beyond endurance. It is feared she would not last long enough to sail.

Lord Elrond does not make this decision lightly, for Mithrandir has informed him that he is to remain in Ennor until the Shadow is driven back before he sails. Likewise for his children and Lady Galadriel. Well, he did mention the twins, but not Arwen. Arwen insists she should follow her naneth on board ship but Celebrian declined her offer. The lady has no wish for her children to witness her continued suffering after learning how her sorry state when rescued has cast such a pall over her sons. I miss the pair’s easy laughter and even those childish pranks.

After they plucked their naneth from that orc nest, they have been sullen, gloomy and snappy. One might think they caught something from the orcs. Lord Celeborn is still trying to talk sense into his grandsons to ease up on their orc hunts which are taking them further afield from the valley. At least the family should accompany Celebrian to Mithlond, even if not sailing yet.

Galadriel has sought out some members of the household – putting together an escort for her daughter. I believe the healer Laurniel will be accompanying her. I will miss that jolly elleth, she’s great company on cold winter nights. Fin has declined to sail back to Aman reminding her that his duty is to the Elven line of Earendil and so long as Lord Elrond and his sons remain in Ennor, so will he. He will escort the party as far as Mithlond though.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 2510_

Dear Journal

Major turnout from the Imladrim as the last preparations for the journey are made. The household loves Lady Celebrian, even though she could be a little wilful at times. Lord Celeborn and Erestor will remain in the valley to take care of the household. Lord Celeborn has resigned himself to the certainty of losing his daughter on this side of the Sea but cannot bear to watch her sail. Fields must still be tilled and cows herded and we cannot have the Imladrim moving en masse to Mithlond. Cirdan was only informed Celebrian was sailing through Maglor. Galadriel set him on the road despite the snows on the first day of spring to make sure her little girl gets the best cabin on the first ship leaving Ennor this year. She even lobbed a javelin or two in his direction to make sure her cousin saw the need for haste in his mission.

I will stop here as it is no easy feat writing one’s journal while on horseback, even at the slow pace… Elrond is trying to tell me some-

_(Figwit gets whacked off his horse by the low-hanging branch Elrond was trying to warn him about.)_

* * *

 

_Mithlond, Tuile, T.A. 2510_

Dear Journal

After a tedious three weeks on the road, with sojourns in lodgings of dubious repute (Hobbit-shacks, Mannish inns and Dwarrow dens), we have arrived in Mithlond. The lodgings here are almost paradise considering what we had to put up with. In Bree the inn was full and good old Butterbur set me up in the stables with the horses after I complained of the smokiness of his taproom. Boffin the hobbit had his pig rooting about in my room. Bombadil’s place was nice and restful though, but a bit cramped for our large party. Mithrandir decided to drop out of the trip at this point to have a game of chess with Tom Bombadil or something. 

Maglor beat us to Mithlond by a full two weeks and a half, although he showed up with a festering warg bite to his leg. Claimed he stumbled over the beast whilst fleeing some angry dwarves. Some misunderstanding about an Elf seducing one of their womenfolk. Amazingly, Cirdan has convinced Maglor it is his time to sail now for Ulmo says the part of the Feanorions is long done in Ennor and the Feanorion is just cluttering up the landscape. Makalaure must return to Aman for judgement and forgiveness. Lord Ulmo does not mince his words. The choice offered is sail or I send a great wave to drown you and the rest of Mithlond. Personally, I am amazed Lord Cirdan did not assemble an angry mob to run the Feanorion out of town at this point like the jinx he is.     

Celebrian seems to take comfort in her uncle’s music and is finally getting some much needed rest. Lady Galadriel, Elrond, her children and Glorfindel had to take turns sitting up with her at night thanks to the bad dreams. Glorfindel quite alarmed by the toll her suffering has on her boys. True, he would like them to take things a little more seriously but this is too much. It is an ill thing to be obsessed by vengeance. Arwen is acting all clingy about her parents and grandmother, as if she is an elfling. Celebrian reluctant to let her daughter out of her sight for fear some misfortune might befall her.

* * *

 

_Mithlond, Laire, T.A. 2510_

Dear Journal

Lady Celebrian has sailed. With her went Maglor Feanorion, the last of the warlike sons of Feanor and legendary minstrel. He tried to sail as Tinfang Gelion but one sharp-eyed sailor from Sirion outed him and everyone took out the pitchforks before Cirdan stepped in to prevent a kinslaying. There are the letters Galadriel had to send to her family in Aman, her parents and elder brother Finrod - a sackful. 

Galadriel has spoken with the ship’s crew and passengers. Maglor stays on board for her daughter’s sake. If Celebrian should pass into Mandos en route, they are welcome to toss Maglor over the side for a meeting with Lord Ulmo. I have faith Maglor will ensure Celebrian reaches Aman’s shores. He did keep his elder brother alive for the First Age despite the madness and stuff, and that was between fighting Morgoth’s minions and their Oath. No, Celebrian will not throw herself off the ship. Maglor would not let her.

Still, the grief is heavy on Elrond and their children. Elrond had to be dragged away from the quay by Glorfindel lest he decides to jump off it after the sail vanished into the distant mists. Arwen bawling like an elfling despite my reassurances she would see her nana in Aman one day when she sails herself. The twins trooped off to drink themselves into a stupor and Galdor had to retrieve them from the tavern. Galadriel not amused by reports the boys had drawn a sword on Lord Cirdan’s long-suffering herald.

I need a drink myself.

* * *

 

_Mithlond, Laire, T.A. 2510_

Dear Journal

Nothing happened last night. Convince me of it please. Eru, is this some sick cosmic joke? I awoke buck-naked between an equally nude Glorfindel and Galadriel. The last thing I recall is Galadriel cracking out one of Lord Cirdan’s vintages and Glorfindel joining us for a drink after tucking Celebrian’s husband and children safely in for the night.  

Okay, perhaps we all took a drop too much. Someone braided my hair with Fin’s and… Hm, Galadriel does have a hot bod for an elleth her age… No! Lord Celeborn will kill me for such thoughts. Took me a while to untangle myself from the sheets and limbs… Oh, I never realised Fin had a tattoo on his back. _Death to Balrogs…_ Hm, a real tacky job. He must be drunk when he got that one. No wonder he wears his hair long to hide that disaster.

Nothing happened. Period. Now I must go prepare for the return journey to Imladris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have removed Maglor from the equation. Somehow I think he would volunteer to help his foster son in some way for the Ring War and that would only complicate stuff. 
> 
> Figwit will not be thinking back too much on this incident in Mithlond with Glorfindel and Galadriel.


	42. Life Goes On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life goes on in Imladris as the Imladrim recover from the departure of Celebrian. Figwit continues playing babysitter to the sons of the Dunedain chieftains.

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 2564_

Dear Journal

After nigh fifty cycles of the sun, Lord Elrond is finally starting to come out of his melancholy rut. Trust us, we tried. The twins are still riding with the Rangers on their personal crusade to eliminate all orcs this side of the mountains. Lady Arwen has taken over the running of the valley in her ada and brothers’ absence. Eru, she does a great job of keeping everything in order. It will be a lucky ellon who takes her as wife.

Arahad I has passed on – nasty winter cold. Men are so fragile, even Dunedain chieftains. His grandson has named his first-born in his honour. Arahad II was still a mewling bundle in his naneth’s arms when the family came to visit for Yule last year. Too young to be fostered yet.

Lindir is quite the hit at the Yule fest – after Maglor left, he has no competition so to speak. Legolas dropped by once or twice to get away from the sheer craziness that goes on in Mirkwood – Thranduil does not like the fact the Dwarves have moved back into Erebor and there is a bustling Mannish realm of Dale so close to his doorstep. Not to mention the kingdom of Rohan further south – allied with the Gondorians. However, he is not above spending coin for fine wine to be delivered to him. Then there are the usual wargs, orcs and spiders…

Legolas tried his hand at diplomacy sending condolences to Galadriel over her daughter and got banned from Lorien for a couple of centuries. Bad intelligence – somehow the elves in Mirkwood heard Lady Celebrian’s hanging out in Mandos. At least Thranduil did not offer up his son as a possible heir to Lothlorien – Lady Galadriel intends to hang about for a couple more centuries and she does have a succession plan in plan, I think. Most likely Arwen. That would explain the long sojourns she takes in Lorien.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2571_

Dear Journal

Mithrandir dropped in with news about a war between Dwarves and Dragons in the Grey Mountains. Those treasure hoards the Dwarves have been building up are just too tempting for the beasties. They have upped themselves from their slumber up in the Northern wastes and laid siege to the Dwarvish stronghold. 

Lord Elrond sounded quite relieved the some of the rings Celebrimbor forged for the Dwarves have been quite thoroughly unmade in the bellies of the dragons after their bearers were devoured. I seriously doubt Durin or his heirs would consider it good news their people were forced from their homes and killed. Erestor reminded everyone Isildur’s Bane is still abroad somewhere and it is not so easily destroyed, which put a damper on everyone. Elrond declared that he would not have that thing mentioned in Imladris for everyone’s sake.  

Tales of fighting dragons have inspired my charge into fits of foolhardiness. Arahad II had to be talked off the roof twice, off the top of the waterfall and out of riding into the big wide world in search of a dragon to slay. I know the _Ballad of Fram and the Wyrm_ sound mighty heroic, but the hero still ends up dead. I must insist Lindir refrain from putting ideas in the lad’s head with his heroic sagas. Perhaps a nice afternoon in the library…

Oops, I spoke too soon.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2571_

Arahad has done it this time - sliding off the library’s staircase bannister and into a mirror while playing at Dragonslaying. A miracle he has not cut his own throat on the shards. Elrond informs us that he will have a nasty scar, just like his namesake. I believe there is a Mannish belief about breaking a mirror being seven years of ill luck, and we have no resident Feanorion now to soak up all the bad juju.

I am too old for this… Why do the Heirs of Isildur insist on being so utterly stubborn and headstrong? For now, Elrond has dosed the brat with some numbing draught and sent him to bed with that cute wooden horse the twins picked up when they were checking out Dale last year.  Doubt he will stay abed long though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, boys will be boys, especially Dunedain boys. 
> 
> Legolas lucky he did not start a war with Lorien over his diplomatic exchange.


	43. More Musings on Mortality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Figwit concedes Lord Namo might get a kick out of watching how some folks meet their premature but hilariously tragic ends.

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 2588_

Dear Journal

Aravorn has taken on the mantle of his father as eighth Chieftain of the Dunedain after a rather unfortunate dinner-time mishap. I always warned Aragost when he was a little boy to chew his food eight times before swallowing and no speaking with your mouth full. From what I understand of the Westron going about the rangers, it was not the vension jerky that did him in, but his servant Harlaf Ironhand’s over-enthusiastic attempts to dislodge the obstruction from his airway that sent him along to Mandos. Just when you think mortals have exhausted all means of entering Mandos, they surprise you. Methinks Lord Namo gets a kick out of all this death business. Well, better Men than Eldar, I say.

There was a similar rumour about Araglas, the sixth Chieftain. In that case, they said his heart stopped dead from shock after he had too much to drink at a wedding banquet and wandered into the newly-weds’ bedchamber by mistake. A nasty shock for the couple, no doubt - having your chieftain keel over dead on your big night. In actuality, he took his death rather dignifiedly two weeks or so after attending the banquet – in his own tent, with his children and grandchildren in attendance.   

Currently, there are no fosterlings in my charge, Arahad II having come of age and gone Ranger-ing with his ada some summers back. To while the time, I have decided to pick up Westron – so as to better understand the gossip our Mannish visitors banter about. Lord Elrond encourages us too as the Elvish tongue is growing increasingly rare among the folk of Middle Earth. In Mithlond, they use Sindarin and Quenya almost exclusively. In Lorien, I hear they still use the Silvan tongue in addition to Sindarin. King Thranduil allows his people to pick up Westron to better trade with Dale should they be so inclined. Mannish tongues certainly change fast. In the Second Age, the men of Numenor who came to Gil-galad’s court all spoke Adunaic. The lesser Men of Middle Earth spoke their own tongues. Now this Westron seems to be catching on everywhere – the Shire, the Dwarves. Well, at least it keeps everyone on the same page, hopefully.  

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2634_

Dear Journal

My days of Westron studies and quietly tending to the household are rudely interrupted when Arahad II presented his eldest son Arassuil to us. Spoilt little brat needs a sound spanking. I caught him peeing into the water fountain this morning when he thought no one was looking. Hah! Never underestimate Elvish eyes, boy. Glorfindel not amused about the damage done to the armoury bows. The little one thought it will be hilarious to de-string every single bow in Imladris. Fin has set him to re-stringing the bows, all two hundred of them. Somehow, I think this one will be under Fin. Our captain promised his ada to make a decent warrior and ranger out of the brat. Eru help him.

Hear from Mithrandir that the realm of Rohan is increasingly plagued by orcs and other denizens from Mordor. Well, better they than us, I say. I don’t really trust these Rohan folk. I bet they have no drop of Dunedain blood in them. The last time he was in the vicinity, Glorfindel managed to converse with a couple of them in Westron but they have no inkling of the Elvish tongue or people. And they took their baths in the river about once a week, even at home. I say they are savages and a bad influence on Gondor. The twins were shut out of Minas Tirith a few years back when they tried to nip in for a diplomatic call on the Steward – what’s-his-name, Hurin? Or Belecth? They change even faster than the Chieftains of the Dunedain. So the boys needed to camp out in the rain. That’s Mannish hospitality and ingratitude for you. Didn’t Lord Elrond make a secret trip to tend to Boromir after he was wounded by a morgul arrow in T.A. 2477 – you think he would have lasted all those 12 years had he not received the aid of the best healer this side of the sea?

Wait, I recall a story about the previous Steward meeting his glorious end by tripping on a rug and falling down the stairs in his tower one night. Oh the ignominy. Boys, perhaps they might have let you in had you not taken the guise of dodgy rug traders. 

* * *

 

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 2655_

Dear Journal

It is with utmost sorrow, that I record the passing of another one of the fostered boys of Imladris. Arahad II brought us news of his adar’s demise. Aravorn is no more – having taken his death – Wait, I think Lord Namo must be laughing his ass off with this one. Death by snow-drift, whilst peeing.

Last winter, Aravorn somehow got a yearning to clap his eyes on his ancestral seat of Fornost. Seriously, there’s nothing to see there but ruins. The weather was chilly and they were caught out by a blizzard in one of the few remaining stone huts standing after fending off bandits, wolves and wargs along the way. After a week of being cooped up, Aravorn made use of the first sign of clear skies one evening to venture out for a quick pee. Whilst tending to his needs, a large pile of snow slid off the roof and buried him completely. It took his sons two whole days to find him under the snow-drift when it began to melt, still with his pants down about his ankles and frozen stiff. Seriously, Eru Iluvatar must have a weird sense of humour. At least the ground thawed out enough for his sons to bury him outside Fornost’s walls in a simple barrow. The back-up plan was a funeral pyre.  

Methinks Fornost will be avoided like the plague by all Dunedain for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of colourful deaths listed are canon, apart from Steward Boromir I's morgul wound.


	44. Dalliances in Mirkwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Figwit goes on a trip to Mirkwood with the twins and Glorfindel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The twins get up to shenanigans in Mirkwood and Glorfindel proves too popular with the ellyth for his own good.

_Mirkwood, Laire, T.A. 2668_

Dear Journal

I do not know what has possessed me to agree to be part of the twins’ escort as they are sent on a diplomatic visit to Mirkwood by Lord Elrond. One must admit they were itching to help Legolas rid his woods of vile critters after they have decimated the Eriadorian orc population. On the upside, Captain Glorfindel is coming along too. The crossing was uneventful, if one discounts the fact we had to hide from a huge troll once. Even Glorfindel drew the line at going up against a solid twenty feet of hill troll.

The only thing going for Mirkwood is the free-spirited nature of its very comely ellyth. Unfortunately, they all seem to be drawn to Glorfindel and the twins. I guess Lord Elrond’s chamberlain is not good enough for them. I wonder at how the twins managed to share their bed with a dozen ellyth at once without the entire thing crashing down into the basement. Fin decided not to risk it and conducts his liaisons in the baths – whilst giving the old spiel about having a beloved in Aman.

His Majesty Thranduil is still his charming self. He was not too happy about his guests’ dalliances or his son riding out with the twins to show them the spider nests. The food provided by his cooks is lacking – never thought I would be sick of game and berries. At least we had fine Dorwinion wine to wash it down, I suppose.

* * *

 

_Mirkwood, Laire, T.A. 2668_

Dear Journal

Lucky me, I finally scored with a saucy kitchen ellyth and she is making my stay quite comfortable. Unfortunately, Glorfindel keeps insisting on dragging me out of the safety of Thranduil’s halls to hunt spiders. They are nasty, hairy and venomous – ugh. I cannot see why we must risk our lives even if they are said to take the occasional elfling. There are so many rambunctious wood elflings crawling about Thranduil’s halls I doubt they would miss a few. Hmm, perhaps they are the reason for our royal host’s constant irritability – and the wine.

Wood elflings are notoriously mischievous and having them cooped up indoors for their own safety is driving their parents and everyone else crazy. Perhaps that is why Thranduil has no problems finding volunteers for those week-long patrols, even to the edges of Dol Guldur where the spiders’ nests and orc dens are said to be.

The woodland prince and my twin lords slaughtered a troop of orcs yesterday and came back all covered with blood and guts. Thankfully they are mostly unscathed or Lady Galadriel would skin me and Fin for letting them go off alone. Elladan said he would like me to accompany them on the next hunting trip as they are sick of playing at bait – wait, you mean you want Uncle Mel as orc-bait?

_(Figwit protests as he is bound, gagged and tossed over Elladan’s back to be set up as bait in their orc-trap.)_

* * *

 

_Away from Mirkwood, Laire, T.A. 2668_

Dear Journal

After risking my life and limb as bait for my young masters, I have judged that we have outlasted our welcome – both Fin and I. The twins can set up someone else as orc-bait. As for Fin, I believe the reason for his flight has something to do with those pretty ellyth he has been keeping company with. Those arrows fired our way by some angry ellyn newly-returned from patrol were definitely not farewell gifts.

The twins should see the note I left on their bedside table. I did want to tell them in person but the boys were occupied with our host’s fair-haired son and my saucy kitchen wench. One never saw such a tangled mess of limbs and display of flexibility. The boys are old enough to watch out for themselves. 

We had to stop at a shack belonging to Radagast, as Aiwendil is now known, to see to Fin. Valar, he looks a fright and stinks like a pig sty. After we yanked those arrows out of Fin, we were off on our way back to Imladris. I am not sticking about to see what critter our host has in his beard. I am sure there is a polecat in there somewhere. 

If the weather and our luck holds, we will be home in sweet Imladris within the week. If only my horse is less feisty...

_(Figwit gets thrown off his horse and knocked out cold. He wakes up later in Radagast's hut sharing a bed with a skunk after Fin brought him back to the Istar to be healed.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They will make it back to Imladris eventually - or have the choice of wintering with Radagast and critters.


	45. Of Birds and Bees, and Pipeweed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Figwit has to deal with one of his charges' love life. Elves hate pipeweed smoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arathorn I is born. Oh, and Figwit wears a dress.

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 2690_

Dear Journal

Things have been quiet in the valley since my return from that ill-advised visit to Mirkwood – I knew it was too good to last. This morning, a troop of Dunedain under Arassuil lumbered into Imladris to drop off old Arahad II into Lord Elrond’s care. At age 127, he is no longer as spry as he used to be. Getting whacked a few times over the years by orcs do not help much either.

Arassuil has also sought help regards to a certain problem which threatens the continuing survival of the Line of Isildur. After years of riding about Ranger-ing, Arassuil has finally met a lovely maiden he wishes to court, only to realise his tendency to be rendered mute in her presence. This affliction seems to affect him in the presence of all lovely mortal women – save his sisters. Somehow ellyth fail to affect him thus. Of course he does not have years to stand about mooning like Elu Thingol did.

Since Elrond was occupied with the Chieftain, the twins took on Arassuil’s problem. They decided to find the most Mannish but pretty elf in the valley and have Arassuil hold a conversation with her to warm him up. None of the resident ellyth met the requirements. Also, most of them have played nursemaid to little Arassuil when he was as tall as my knee, which quite ruins the desired outcome. Somehow I allowed the twins to blackmail me into wearing one of Celebrian’s old gowns over my nipping a little of Erestor’s best wine (it was only 1 bottle or 2 a year or so over 500 years, it ain’t that bad). Say hello to Aunt Mellie with the orange-stuffed bodice sitting by the fountain.

Why in Mordor did I allow them to do this to me? I will have no end of teasing from Erestor and Fin now – what were they doing on the balcony overlooking the fountain? Wait, are they calling for the rest of the household staff to come see?

After a lot of gawping and stuttering, Arassuil managed to compliment, of all things, my bosom. Then he turned beet-red and started off on some nonsense about flying pigs. I think the twins would have done better having one of Arassuil’s sisters come fill in for me. I know they have let their looks go after the seventh baby but they are still quite comely, enough for a man to converse about the weather to.

Thankfully, Lady Arwen made a timely intervention before we both make utter fools of ourselves before half of Imladris. Arassuil speaks fine with her around, despite being a bit overawed by her stunning likeness to Luthien - Elf, you see. She hooked our future chieftain with unrepentant skirt-chaser Glorfindel and our romantic but lovelorn bard Lindir for some tuition in the finer aspects of mortal courtship. Lindir loses his heart to some mortal maid about every yeni or so, judging by his odes and ballads on the topic. Seriously, the Aegnor - Andreth tale is getting old.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2691_

Dear Journal

Arassuil rode into Imladris seeking aid of Lord Elrond. Having won the hand of his fair maiden, he joined his men for a spot of celebration in a house of dubious repute before the formal betrothal – and at the same time, get a crash course in the birds and bees. Unfortunately, the party left him with an embarrassing ailment in the nether regions. Thankfully we elves are immune to such conditions. Eru be praised.

Lord Elrond had me assist him in the ward and whoa! I will not be surprised if the lady calls off the engagement rather than let that thing anywhere near her. Elrond started our naughty boy on a highly unpleasant course of medication while giving him a stern lecture against visiting such vile dens. Patient confidentiality be damned, some healer’s aide informed Arahad II about his son’s condition and the Chieftain is highly concerned if this will affect the chances of grandchildren since Arassuil is an only son.

The wedding will have to be postponed until Arassuil’s condition clears completely. No sense scaring the bride off on the wedding night – I smell something burning - What’s it with this weed-smoking stuff? It’s disgusting – no, you are not picking up that habit from your son, Arahad!

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2692_

Dear Journal

After a year, Arahad II finally attended the wedding of his son. True, the bride is different. Arassuil’s beloved passed from a fever over the winter. Her elder sister came with her parents to bring the bad news but ended up catching the eye of Arassuil. True, she is a tad on the mature side and no stunning beauty but she might be just what Arassuil needs, considering his propensity to get tongue-tied in the presence of mortal beauty. The wedding feast was held in Imladris. Arahad is eagerly awaiting the birth of a grandson before he considers taking his death.

* * *

 

 

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 2693_

Dear Journal

Arahad II may pass on in peace if he so wishes now that news has reached us of Arassuil’s wife being delivered of a healthy baby boy in summer. Not to be orkish about it but I wish he does take his death. His foul pipeweed habit is driving the elves here crazy. His rooms stink constantly and the laundress has hysterics over the burn marks in his bed linens. I doubt smoking in bed is wise. Elrond will have a hard time explaining to the Dunedain how their chieftain ended up like a smoked roast in his own bed under his roof. It’s not doing his bad cough any favours either.

And I thought Mithrandir’s pipeweed habit was bad – at least he never stays long enough to befoul the air in the valley and the smoke rings do entertain some of the elflings, before the stench makes them sick that is. Arahad II convinced the twins to try smoking and the boys were awfully sick afterwards. Understand the weed is grown in the Shire and the halflings treat its smoking like an art form. The Rangers, Dwarves and other Mannish tribes are taking a shine to it too.

Sweet Eru, Middle Earth will stink like Morgoth’s ass before long. At least that stench is what I imagine Morgoth’s farts will smell like. Ugh. Glorfindel claims the smell is reminiscent of a balrog, but slightly cleaner.

No worries on Arahad’s account. Against Elrond’s advice, he has decided to up for Arassuil’s place so as to get acquainted with the latest heir of Isildur’s line instead of waiting for him to come to Imladris to be fostered. Seriously doubt he is old enough to sing along with your drinking songs and hunt yet, Arahad. Don't get your hopes up yet with commissioning a bow and quiver set or drinking horn.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arahad II can rest easy now the bloodline of Isildur is secure - or perhaps not.


	46. No Pain, No Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Elrond puts an heir of Isildur on a strict diet and exercise regime thanks to an overly-indulgent grandfather. That grandfather is not too happy about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dieting, exercise and discipline do not mix well with overly-pampered grandsons and doting grandfathers, so the Imladrim learn.

_Imladris, Quelle, T.A. 2700_

Dear Journal

Arahad II and his son Arassuil brought the next heir to be fostered yesterday morn. Arathorn is a chubby little boy and it’s no wonder with the way his doting grandfather pampers him. Seriously, I know he is a growing boy but that much sugar will only cause him to be hyper and headaches for us all. He is also the first Dunedain lad Lord Elrond has certified as obese. They are mostly a trim lot. Lord Elrond has written up a strict diet and exercise regime for Arathorn. Guess who’s the lucky elf to make sure he sticks to it?

Arahad is accusing me of starving the boy – missing dessert never killed anyone. I recall Glorfindel sending you off to bed without dessert when you were naughty and look what a tall, strapping Chieftain you grew up to be. Three helpings of the cook’s potato dumpling stew is more than enough for anyone. Arathorn is not exactly thrilled with the bran cereal diet Elrond has started him on. I did add a dribble of buttermilk and honey to make it more appetising.

Glorfindel has banned Arathorn from riding any of the ponies in Imladris until he loses weight. Poor Pansy had to be put out of her misery over her broken back. Arwen in tears. She reared that pony since it was a day old. Arathorn being very bratty about it but Elladan promised to throw him out for the wargs if he dared go near any of the other ponies.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 2700_

Dear Journal

The fight to get little Arathorn to lose those extra pounds has taken on another level with the rest of the household pitching in. The twins and Fin proscribe to exercise and hard work to drop off the excess pounds. We elves never had to worry about the flab but we do note better muscle tone with regular bouts in the training yard. Glorfindel had Arathorn running laps around the yard – unfortunately just after his loving grandfather sneaked him a half-dozen honey cakes bought from that passing peddler. He ended up puking out those cakes all over the yard. The twins thought it would be more enjoyable to go on a trek about the valley in winter. They ended up having to carry the brat home after he threw a tantrum over his aching feet. Personally, I would have left him out there in the snow to stew. It is not as though he would end up warg-chow in the valley.

Erestor and Arahad colluded to use heat to force Arathorn to sweat off those pounds. They rigged up something called a sauna in the baths, inspired by Erestor’s memories of life in Gil-Galad’s court way back in the Second Age. I think he made a mistake in the calculations when he retrofitted the piping. The baths were turned into a hellishly hot kettle, which would have pleased a Balrog. A week’s supply of firewood used up in a single night and all we had to show for it was Arathorn being treated for heatstroke in the House of Healing. Lord Elrond is not pleased. The baths are off-limits until we can get a Dwarf to fix the plumbing. 

It could have been worse if the twins had not instigated a snowball fight in the yard last night and kept everyone out of doors. Is it fair in a snowball fight to rig a large bucket of snow and dump it on Uncle Mel’s poor head when he sticks his nose out of his window to see what the commotion is about?

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2701_

Dear Journal

Lord Elrond’s diet and exercise regime has paid off with Arathorn finally being able to touch his toes his morning. Arahad II was so proud his grandson is able to climb to the top branches of the oak tree now, with some help from the twins. I am not though. I doubt Elrond will be amused if he should fall, and Valar forbid, break his now-less-pudgy neck. In days past, I would be tempted to bet he would bounce off the ground if he falls off the tree.

The healthy food menu Lady Arwen has come up with definitely helps too. Fruit platters for dessert instead of rich jam puddings are a refreshing change. However I must ask for the return of the stewed mutton suet dumplings in drippings to the Imladrim menu. Those buckwheat dumplings in whey simply are not as delicious.

Fin is starting Arathorn on his warrior training proper. A bit of padding would save him some grief from the bruises he is bound to collect. Once Fin got too carried away while sparring and whacked Aravorn hard enough to break a rib. Then there was the time he put Aravir out cold for two whole days… and Aragorn I’s arm…

I am not surprised Arahad II is keeping a watchful eye on them as Glorfindel teaches Arathorn wrestling. I think I will go join him, you know, just to keep the old boy company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry too much, Glorfindel will be careful with his charge.
> 
> I am imagining the pony as a very small, young animal not quite ready to be ridden yet.


	47. Rainy Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arathorn comes of age. His father becomes chieftain. The Imladrim are left red-faced thanks to heavy rains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A change in the weather can suck. Gandalf brings dark tidings.

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 2719_

Dear Journal

It is with great regret that we mourn the passing of the tenth Chieftain of the Dunedain. Arahad’s health had been fading for a while ever since Arathorn came of age and left the valley to start his Ranger-ing. Took his death in the presence of Erestor in the House of Healing – or perhaps Erestor finally had his fill of that damned pipeweed-smoke. Somehow I do not put it past Elrond’s advisor to get creative with a pillow. He has been a bit cranky since he broke his arm slipping on ice and I am not asking him how exactly Arahad II went to Mandos. Putting them in the same ward was asking for trouble.

Gildor and company providing the music for the funeral as Elrond pens his condolences to the new Chieftain. I guess Gildor will only be leaving when the snow melts, so his son will probably miss the funeral. Glorfindel and his guards have prepared a nice barrow on the hillside for Arahad II. Nice view of Imladris and the Bruinen. Lindir kept insisting it was a lousy place to put Arahad’s eternal resting place as that hillside was prone to landslides when the snow melts. Pah, what does a mere minstrel know?

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2720_

Dear Journal

Guess what? Our resident minstrel was right. Arassuil and his men came to pay their respects to the departed Arahad II only to watch helplessly as a great chunk of the hillside, including Arahad II’s barrow went sliding into the Bruinen after a heavy rainstorm. We have been having a wet year in Imladris ever since Coire.

The ford is near impassable with the surge from the mountains. Elrohir had to rescue one lad from the current after he was knocked off his horse. The Dunedain were a sopping wet, stinking troop of men when they finally crossed to safety. That was when the landslide happened. Seriously, next time ask Lindir or Erestor to go meet our guests at the ford, I am sure they would have found suitable words to convey their regret. Fin’s remark about Arahad II always wanting to go out to sea fell flat. Had to stop Arassuil from trying to stab our tactless captain.

We returned to Imladris to find Mithrandir smoking in the Hall of Fire. In that annoying way only the Istari are capable of, he had somehow arrived in the Last Homely House without anyone noticing him and dry as a bone despite the miserable rain outside. Lord Elrond and Arwen very concerned about their herb garden as all this water is killing the medicinal and culinary plants. Too much water is not good for mint and - I digress again. 

Mithrandir’s talk of troubling clouds in the distance over dinner did little to inspire confidence. If I should dream of shadowy clouds and nasty critters, I know who to blame. Arathorn tried to raise spirits by flirting with each and every elleth at dinner, including Arwen. His love ballads were well-accepted but the overall mood was still glum. Lady Arwen rebuffed his half-jesting offer to take her to his home as his Chieftainess-to-be. She warned Arathorn very sternly that he should not announce his status as one of the Dunedain thus openly. Methinks she had a flash of foresight then. Arassuil whacked his son upside on the head and warned him that it is not his place to give cheek to their hostess.

No one of Isildur’s line is going to join with an elleth, at least not for the next hundred years or so. Judging by the way Elrond was glaring daggers at Arathorn, especially not Lady Arwen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are going to get quite hairy for the next lot of Chieftains according to Tolkien's legendrium.


	48. Battles and a Long Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arathorn I unwitting becomes a local hero in Bree after an orc attack but his ada is not too happy about it. A long winter strains the resources of the Shire and Bree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figwit gets dragged out of Imladris once more by Elrond but proves to be useful in Bree.

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 2747_

Dear Journal

Of the all the immature stunts ever undertaken – Arathorn’s troop failed to maintain their perimeter because their great leader was carousing late into the night in Butterbur’s _Prancing Pony._ Mithrandir had insisted a guard be placed about the Shire many years back and Elrond had agreed with him. I do not see why he is so particular about the halflings. They are fully capable of taking care of themselves, as evidenced by the fact that the orcs who did slip past the perimeter were trounced by a pack of them. Oh, an intrepid hobbit even knocked off the head of the orc-leader and invented a new game. Golf or summat. Hope the Lady of Lorien does not hear of this one. 

Perhaps the Dunedain should start letting the Hobbit-folk know who has been keeping them safe for the last couple of centuries and charge them some fee for it. I mean, the Shire was part of Arnor and Arassuil is of the princely line of the realm. A tribute of corn or wheat will go miles to feeding the Dunedain over those pesky winters.

I digress – Arathorn’s troop did manage to redeem themselves, in the eyes of the good people of Bree at least. Some orcs descended upon the town and were routed by Arathorn’s men - he did not appreciate his drinking party being interrupted. His ada is less than thrilled his son has become some great hero to the townsfolk. The Rangers of the North were always meant to be a hidden people. You can’t go swaggering into the _Prancing Pony,_ even if Butterbur promised free food and board. Never know where Sauron’s spies are.

On the upside of things, Bree is building gates at both ends of the town and imposing a watch after nightfall, something which has long been overdue given the increasing orc and warg presence in Eriador. This news has been received with much dismay by certain dark-haired, grey-eyed ellyn in Imladris known for visiting the handsome ladies of Bree when their ada is busy fostering Dunedain boys. Fin? He’d just climb over the hedge.  

* * *

 

_Bree, Hrive, T.A. 2758_

Dear Journal

I am dismayed that Lord Elrond has seen fit to drag me out during what is possibly the worst winter in Eriador to Bree. Why can’t his sons or Fin go with him instead? Right, Fin and his children are visiting Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel in Lothlorien and are not expected home till spring, if it ever comes.

One thing good about the debacle some years back at Bree – our reckless chieftain-in-waiting has caught the eye of a comely Dunedain lass for his heroic deeds in the Battle of Butterbur’s Inn. The girl is not really into this wandering and hidden people stuff. Honestly, who is? She took on a job in Bree at the inn as soon as she came of age and has been there since. To humour his wife, Arathorn set her and their baby up in a small cottage in Bree, against Elrond and Arassuil’s better judgement.

Little Argonui is the reason for our venturing out from the safety of Imladris. Arathorn came riding in seeking aid for his son and the good people of Bree. Seems there is an epidemic of lung-fever on top of a severe food shortage. It was almost a pity Elrond and Arassuil had responded to Mithrandir’s charge to send aid to the Hobbits for their crops have failed. Gildor and party volunteered to escort the Istar and those three wagons of grain to meet up with Arassuil’s troop on the road. Seriously, if they could fend off the orcs in T.A. 2747, I believe they can pull through a famine without our help. I mean, how much need a Hobbit eat with their tiny size? We did manage to load a small cart with supplies for Bree though. 

Arathorn has been sent to bed for his sheer exhaustion. He has been keeping watch for wolves, wargs and orcs with the menfolk of Bree before his son fell ill. His wife is also ailing, having caught the fever from her son. Lord Elrond has me brewing some bitter-smelling herbs to bring down their fever. Argonui’s a teeny little thing and Elrond is very concerned about the way he is wheezing.

The cottage is a pokey little place – hopefully Arathorn has no intention of expanding his family further or someone might have to sleep on the roof. There is barely room for me to get into the bed chamber with the bed, cot and chair Lord Elrond is sitting on as he cradles his little patient. The kitchen roof leaks horribly thanks to the snow on it. I believe Arathorn would have done better by his family leaving them with the Dunedain. None of their tents leaked, unless they poked holes in it to get the smoke out. The thatched farmsteads are quite solid according to the twins – the running joke is that they used tanned warg skins to waterproof their roofs under the thatch.

More knocking on the door. Word has spread the famed healer of Rivendell is in town. Elrond is too soft to turn them away. Where’s Erestor when you need him? No doubt he is kicking back with some Dorwinion wine and listening to Lindir’s latest ballad in the Hall of Fire.

I do hope everyone gets better soon.

* * *

 

_Bree, Hrive, T.A. 2758_

Dear Journal

Little Argonui pulled through. Sadly, despite my lord’s best efforts, his nana did not. We have been stuck in Bree, snowed in literally, for two weeks. Elrond’s supply of medicine is running out fast and so is the food. You know it is bad when roast rat appears on the table for dinner, courtesy of Arathorn. I guess when ranger-ing, you cannot be choosy. Our steeds are the only ones left alive as the townsfolk decided to spare them on Lord Elrond's and Arathorn's behalf. We do have to ride back home eventually. The poor beasts have to make do with the mouldy straw left in the stables since animal fodder has gone on the town's menu already. We could turn them loose outside the hedge but there are hungry wolves around... 

Thankfully, Arathorn also got Mistress Butterbur to take care of Argonui, freeing Elrond and I up to treat the other townspeople. I expect a third of them will not live till the snow melts. I think I am turning soft – those poor little Mannish youngsters haven’t got a hope with the fever and a famine. Somehow I volunteered to ride back to Imladris tomorrow and return with more medicine, a couple of Elven healers and more food supplies for Bree. Perhaps no one will mind if I take a break for an hour or so for a decent bath followed by some nice food and wine in the Hall of Fire.

Wait, where is my horse? Someone ate my horse!

* * *

 

_Bree, Hrive, T.A. 2758_

Dear Journal

I have returned with a party of elves to Bree only to encounter Arassuil and Arathorn arguing in the road. Seems Arassuil feels Argonui will fare better on one of the Dunedain hidden farmsteads than with the Butterburs, until he is old enough to be fostered. Arathorn naturally disagrees. I am taking a leaf from Lord Elrond’s book of wisdom and staying out of this. This is going to be one long winter.

Wish I had taken Erestor’s advice and remained home in Imladris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It would appear Arathorn I has some difficulties with his adar, which will be worked out eventually. Yes, he has not gotten the hidden people part of his heritage figured out yet. Wonder why he was the next Chieftain in canon after Aragorn I known to have died violently?
> 
> Figwit has no grasp of a hobbit's appetite for food, does he?


	49. The Dragon Awakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sack of Erebor. Thranduil's dragon-slaying fail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erebor gets sacked by Smaug, Dale burns and two sons wonder why they have such foolhardy dads.

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 2770_

Dear Journal

Argonui has been a marvellous foster son of Imladris. Not one single prank from him, even with the twins around. Placing him with his Dunedain kin was a wise decision by Arassuil although Arathorn might disagree. Lord Elrond had never had such an eager little helper in the House of Healing. After six years of Quenya lessons under Erestor, the young one can now discuss social issues in the language with Mithrandir and his tutor. However, the Grey Pilgrim is not too happy about Argonui’s professed desire for a nice little farm and beekeeping as his life’s ambition. Captain Glorfindel finds his archery lacking too. Someday we will have to inform him he is destined to be Chieftain of his people. The poor lad. 

Seriously, Mithrandir is poor company. He was going all doom and gloom on Elrond and my lord is not too cheery after chatting with him. We received news from Bree about refugees from across the mountains fleeing a dragon. The fair realm of Dale and Erebor razed. King Thror and his son barely made their escape, so a Dwarf Mithrandir spoke to said. Probably sneaked out the back door - everyone knows how royal Dwarves are like when it comes to saving their beards. 

Arathorn was itching to get himself some dragon Fram-style but his sensible adar forbade him from going off on a fool’s errand. In addition, we have asked Argonui to write a soppy letter to his ada to remind him he has a young son who would be most upset if he got burnt to a crisp by a giant lizard. Just to be sure, Glorfindel has ridden off to Bree to make sure Arathorn stays put on this side of the Misty Mountains.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 2770_

Dear Journal

We have received a surprise patient. Prince Legolas had his gravely injured father carted from Mirkwood to Imladris for treatment of extensive dragon burns. Apparently, King Thranduil tried to emulate the mighty Earendil and do battle with a dragon, forgetting Earendil had the Eagles and the Valar backing him up. One cannot hope for better odds than that. Perhaps the Great Eagles still recall the time some young elfling of Oropher’s shot arrows at them and opted to show up late for the rescue. Or Gwaihir lived up to his grandfather’s reputation for utter tardiness. Will have to ask Glorfindel on that count.

When Gwaihir delivered Thranduil to his people, they thought he was dead and set about burying him Silvan-style under a tree. It was when he started shouting high treason that his grieving subjects realize he was still alive. Could have been worse, it could have been a funeral pyre in the Noldorin fashion. Thranduil will not be wowing any more of the ladies with his new looks for sure. Unless he comes up with that Silvan glamoury thingy. 

Lord Elrond and his little Mannish apprentice are sitting up with Legolas. Not sure if Thranduil will pull through. Mirkwood has suffered massive losses after their king tried to defend their Mannish neighbours at Dale. Of course, Thranduil never cared for Thror or Erebor since they never sent him wine. He would have been treated sooner if his own healers had not been so unskilled or he had not been so stubborn about not setting foot in Lorien to seek aid from there. I wonder what he would think if he found out he was being treated by a thirteen-year-old Dunedain lad.

According to the prince, a rift opened up between the Lady and his father when on a diplomatic visit to Lorien some years back, Thranduil overindulged in the wine and made a pass at Galadriel at the banquet. Lord Celeborn took offense at having his lady-wife referred to as the Noldo harlot and worse. The banquet ended on a sour note with the Galadrim driving their Mirkwood visitors back up river with arrows. Legolas is trying to mend ties with Lord Celeborn to this day but his wife’s wounded pride keeps getting in the way.

Methinks we should leave Thranduil and Galadriel to sort out their differences someday – if he pulls through. If not, I am sure Galadriel will be thrilled to be part of the funeral celebrations. She might even bring that special Lorien vintage miruvor. Must remember to extend an invite to us too, Prince. 

* * *

 

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 2771_

Dear Journal

Our royal patient has healed well enough to start hurling insults at Elrond’s cook for her cooking this morning. Whatever is wrong with coddled eggs and oats? Prince Legolas is heading out into the woods to find wild shoots and wild rabbits more to his father’s refined palate. The twins just opted to take Argonui out riding before he picks up more really embarrassing Sindarin references to their beloved grandmother in Lothlorien. Whatever did the lady get up to in King Thingol's court? The king is cranky Elrond put him on a strict no-wine regime. Hey, show some appreciation you are not in Mandos yet.

Arathorn stumbled in looking very sheepish with a badly-infected arm after breakfast. Got into a scuffle in Bree and allowed someone to knife him in the arm some days ago. Clearly Glorfindel was occupied elsewhere. Who's the lucky lass now, Fin? Conveniently forgot about the wound until it started turning bad. You fool, were you even listening during Elrond’s lessons in the House of Healing? How to properly clean and treat a wound? Argonui tut-tutting as he treats his own adar’s folly. With luck, Arathorn will not be gaining the epithet the One-Armed.  

You know, I think Legolas and Argonui might have some common ground here where their adars are concerned. 

Now I understand why Mithrandir might be feeling a bit hopeless with the state of things. Or maybe it might have to do with the fact he is still a roving nomad while Saruman has landed himself some wickedly fancy wizard fortress at Orthanc courtesy of the Stewards of Gondor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How Thranduil came about his scars is entirely my take. In the book, there was no mention of them and in the movies, only an ambiguous remark about the Serpents of the North.


	50. All Hail the Chief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arathorn I's luck finally runs out, but not before he really makes himself unwelcome in Imladris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 50? Wow, never expected to make it this far. Hang in there - only a few more generations to Estel.

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2827_

Dear Journal

We have been blessed with another foster-son of Imladris. Argonui trotted in with his little boy Arador this morning. It took a while for Argonui to get into the swing of the family business. Mithrandir and Arassuil had to drag him screaming and kicking out of Elrond’s study where he had been begging my lord not to send him away with his adar and those wild kinsmen of his. Left some deep scratches in the floorboards. Can’t say I blame the lad. That was in T.A. 2773. Now he is as confident a Ranger as any other. Still has a keen interest in music and herb-lore, to Lindir and Elrond’s delight. Makes a tasty stew too.

Arassuil took his death in T.A. 2784, confident that his grandson’s cautious nature would keep Arathorn from prematurely meeting his end. He would have stuck it out longer, at least until Argonui’s bride popped out a great-grandson for his line but the latest incident Arathorn had with a hill troll was the last straw. He decided his old heart could not take any more such scares. Argonui has his work cut out for him. Elladan and Elrohir are not much help. They were the ones who put Arathorn up to troll-hunting in the first place and made up some grand ballad about the whole incident afterwards. We were just lucky Arathorn did not get his skull clubbed in. Try making a heroic ballad of that.

In T.A. 2793, we had to stop the twins and Arathorn from riding over to join the Dwarves in some orc-smiting. Hey, it’s a pity about poor old Thror but it ain’t our quarrel. What will Galadriel and Thranduil think? The battle’s right on their doorsteps and they didn’t go sticking their noses into it. Methinks Galadriel would have grounded her grandsons for life. Thankfully, Elrond and Argonui managed to talk them out of it. Arwen’s pleas and tears probably helped too, and the cook’s onions.

I hope Arador inherits his ada’s cautious ways and his nana’s good sense. I hear Argonui's wife is quite a fine lady. Nothing much to look at, according to the twins, but wields a deft needle and ladle. Bakes great honey biscuits too. Wished she could have come along with her son but Argonui said she had to stay home with the younger children.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Yavie T.A. 2830_

Dear Journal

It’s a nightmare I say! Lord Elrond and his boys went to Mithlond to visit old Cirdan, leaving Lady Arwen in charge in Imladris. The Chieftain of the Dunedain suddenly gets the urge to drop in unannounced to visit his grandson. Arathorn somehow managed to rustle up a ragtag bunch of Rangers, Dwarves and even an odd hobbit from Bree. It was not Glorfindel’s fault. He had to allow Arathorn in given the understanding his people have with Lord Elrond. Can’t you at least let the Dwarves get washed down the river or something?

They went tromping all over the flowerbeds and washed their feet in the fountain. The cooks are in a tizzy with all the demands for beer, salt ham and other disgusting foodstuff after our guests threw the fruits we offered them onto the floor. Erestor tried to restore some dignity to the Last Homely House but he got dunked in the fountain by a pack of rowdy dwarves – the same one they used as a foot-bath. I think I can empathize with the Sindar now where dwarves are concerned – the stinky, hairy beasts. Thranduil would have sent them packing and so would Lady Galadriel – with a hail of arrows if need be.

This lot of Rangers are not the same disciplined bunch under Argonui or Arassuil in the days of old. A bit of wine and they are in a merry riot. No swinging swords in the hall! Sweet Valar! That vase was a priceless Numenorean relic! Arwen is trying her best to be a gracious hostess but I can tell by the way her fingers are twitching she is just itching to get her hands on a bow or something to send our ‘guests’ packing.

Arathorn has Arador with him and is making poor Lindir sing naughty tavern songs and heroic ballads about dragon-slaying and troll-smiting. Poor Lindir had his harp tossed up a tree earlier by some young bandit and Arathorn is threatening to do the same to him if he doesn’t sing those nasty Mannish songs. Lord Elrond will not be pleased indeed. Still, Arador does seem to be enjoying himself with the beer. Fie! Fin, stop encouraging them! 

The hobbit seemed mighty nice at first, until he got out his pipe and started fouling up the air with his weed-smoke. Has a very hearty appetite too – is his stomach connected to the Void or something? We were saving that wheel of sheep-cheese for Yule! I know Elrond insists on hospitality to all friendly travellers but I seriously think this lot are abusing our kindness.

Ai, the party will eat us out of house and home, if they do not tear down the house first – did some stinky dwarf just make a pass at Arwen? (ink blot) Excuse me, methinks the tide has turned.

_(Leading the charge with a broomstick, Arwen finally reclaims Rivendell with the aid of the ellyth, chasing the unwelcome guests out of the valley. Figwit picks up the rear by unceremoniously tossing out the hobbit after them over the river.)_

* * *

 

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 2848_

Dear Journal

Arathorn is no more. The new chieftain brought the news when he visited Imladris for Yule. Finally we can breathe a sigh of relief that Argonui and his son would no longer be endangered by a highly reckless chieftain. After various orc-baiting forays, troll-teasing and warg-wrestling matches over the years, Arathorn has found his predestined path to Mandos at the wrong end of some Southern traveller’s dagger after too many drinks at Butterbur’s place.

Mithrandir dropped by to offer some words of comfort to the family, as well as pour more doom and gloom on the valley. Argonui has been honing his foresight in secret with the Grey Pilgrim’s coaching for many a year now – helped to get his adar out of a good many tight spots. Too bad he did not foresee popping in for some of Butterbur’s ale would cost Arathorn the Mighty his life. We really have to do something about the ridiculous songs going about the Dunedain – Arathorn did not slay a dragon, he did not drive the orcs out of the mountains, that was Elladan and Elrohir – and what heresy is this about him spitting in the face of Sauron in Mordor and besting him in single combat? That was poor Gil-galad. Arathorn was a selfish, hot-headed prat even as Chieftain. I cannot honestly say I am all that sad to see him gone.

Argonui confided in me that his foresight might not be exactly a blessing. Apparently, he foresaw violent ends for his son and yet-to-be born grandson. That’s what hanging out too often with Mithrandir does to you. For an Elf, even Elrond has deep furrows in his brow to show he has been spending too much time about Mithrandir. No wonder Argonui is getting a yearning to retire to his youngest daughter’s homestead and take up beekeeping or pottery. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I let poor Figwit have a taste of what a pack of hobbits and dwarves can do to a place (and kitchen). That is Chieftain number 12 going off to Mandos.


	51. Council in Session

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The White Council meets in Rivendell and Figwit gets the dubious honour of participating in the discussions. Council members can be a handful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figwit is invited by Elrond to sit at the meeting. Figwit learns meetings can be boring and the council members demanding.

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 2851_

Dear Journal

Household in a tizzy as Saruman has called for a meeting of the White Council in Imladris. Elrond has drawn up the guest list and guess which lucky elf gets to have the headaches over the lodging arrangements and preparations? Lucky me.

Galadriel and Celeborn are still sore at Thranduil, so we cannot have them anywhere near the Mirkwood envoys if they decide to attend. Not sure if old Cirdan will make the journey from Mithlond – if he does, we will need to have some fish in the kitchen since he does not like meat. Captain Glorfindel has volunteered to provide an escort since there are so few battle-ready elves in Mithlond. It would never do for the old mariner to be eaten by a warg en-route.

It’s anyone’s guess if Gildor Inglorion will be popping up. If he does, his band can have the hut by the stables. The Dunedain can bunk in the old barracks if Chieftain Argonui swings by. Erestor insists that they be housed far, far away from his room after the last visit where their drinking songs kept him up all night. Also, Lord Elrond does not want them too near the main house - and Lady Arwen. The lady wants the house all spruced up to receive the guests. I seriously doubt anyone will notice the roses or magnolias in their rooms, milady. Mithrandir’s will likely wither from his pipe-smoke.

At least I get some consolation Lord Elrond has invited me to sit in with the twins – wait, that sounds like you want me to babysit the pair of mischiefs.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 2851_

Dear Journal

The last of the guests have arrived with Lord Cirdan and his aide Galdor riding into Imladris with the good captain’s escort party. Methinks the troop had a bit of a party in Bree first, for Lord Cirdan was looking the worse for the wear. Not used to riding in the saddle? Pull the other one, Cirdan. Gildor’s party met up with the Dunedain troop under young Arador and they are having a drinking party of their own in the barracks courtesy of the twins. Doubt any of the guards will be fit for duty on the morn. Meanwhile, his Royal Majesty of Mirkwood has been partaking heavily of Elrond’s wine cellar in between philosophical discussions with Erestor.  

Lady Galadriel is complaining of Radagast’s squirrels getting into her hair and requests a change of rooms. Wish the Istar would keep his furry pals under control. They have been running merry riot in the Last Homely House since he and Mithrandir arrived two days back. I believe Thranduil’s guards have helped themselves to the hares – I smell rabbit stew out in the gardens. Silvans have some weird taboo on eating stuff they did not hunt or gather from the woods. Lord Celeborn and his guards have also joined them in the gardens for a repast of Silvan fare. Hope Radagast does not object too much. It could be awkward explaining to the Lady what happened to her lord if Radagast turns him into a toad.

The respected leader of the White Council, Saruman, is a sullen guest. Why, he makes doom-and-gloom Mithrandir look jolly. The servants in tears as he insists on his room being utterly spotless. Our linens are not white enough for him and placing him next to Mithrandir is taxing his nerves – the pipe-smoke keeps drifting over from the balcony. I hope his patience is as long as his beard or Mithrandir might find his pipe stuffed up where the sun doesn't shine. 

May Eru Iluvatar protect Imladris.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 2851_

Dear Journal

The Council meeting was long and tiresome. The twins were nursing hangovers or they would have fled for the hills or at least caused some mischief. Mithrandir kicked off the discussion by suggesting we march on Dol Guldur, to vehement objections from his colleagues. Then he decided to abstain from the discussions and smoke his foul pipe-weed. Glorfindel eager to go kick Sauron’s butt out of Dol Guldur but Saruman is more cautious. Thranduil not too keen on hosting a Noldor-led army so close to his realm. I am with Saruman and Thranduil on this. No sense rushing over the mountains to get killed by Sauron's minions. Lady Galadriel too busy combing squirrel fur and nuts out of her hair to add much to the argument. No sign of Lord Celeborn yet, or Radagast… thought I should check the garden pond later in case the Lord of Lorien has taken up residence there thanks to those roasted hares.

Lord Cirdan apparently bored by the proceedings and dozed off about when Thranduil was giving his speech forbidding Noldor arms anywhere near his realm, Sauron or not. The ancient mariner did perk up considerably when Thranduil insulted our captain by calling him Galadriel’s toy-boy and a brainless pillow. Really, a boxing match does liven up things but you shouldn’t encourage those two. Lord Elrond had to step in and break up the fight, much to the chagrin of some elves already taking bets on the outcome of the fight. Gildor was calling odds of one to three Glorfindel knocks Thranduil’s block off.

Lord Elrond sent me out to fetch some refreshments for everyone while they cool their tempers. Mithrandir was annoying everyone with his smoke-rings, especially Saruman. Met a very dishevelled Lord Celeborn in the hall with Lindir. Our minstrel was helping the elf-lord to his room. Apparently, Celeborn passed out in the stables after the drinking games last night. Lindir would be glad to send Celeborn our way after he has washed and dressed in a suitably dignified manner before appearing before his kinsman Thranduil. I volunteered to take over from him and sent Lindir on into the council meeting with the tea trolley. Let him watch the twins for a change-

No, milord! Not there! Oh well, too late. Well, serves Thranduil right for leaving his boots outside his room. Hey, I am not cleaning Thranduil’s boots after his kinsman puked over them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I have kept the gist of the 2nd White Council meeting in-line with Tolkien's canon for most part.


	52. Deadwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arador and the twins embark on an adventure to Minas Tirith, Gandalf and Figwit go along for the ride. A theft and a dead tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, how did you suppose Gandalf knew there was a seedling of the White Tree on that hill (LOTR book-verse) waiting for King Elessar?

_Outside Imladis, Laire, T.A. 2872_

Dear Journal

I do not like this at all. Arador was feeling a bit miffed about the Steward’s heavy-handed treatment of his people the last time a band of Dunedain went so far south for trade. Say what you will but nothing beats Gondorian steel in this age. Elven steel is terrific but we don’t do mass production any more. Can’t blame the city guards for locking them up after a drunken brawl in the streets. The lashing at dawn might be a bit excessive though, still…

Arador is all agog with those misleading sagas about his grandfather and aspires to be a mighty hero like him. Thankfully, he had the sense to ride in to get some advice from his foster father. Too bad Lord Elrond is off visiting Lord Cirdan with Glorfindel. I do not understand why Mithrandir is encouraging him in this mad escapade. Letting the twins accompany him might have the Steward of Gondor waking up with his beard dyed pink or something. Perhaps I should go along just in case. Lindir is far too flighty and Erestor, well, let’s say I do not trust that sneaky elf not to drop Gondor off as some huge peace offering to Mordor.

I seriously hope Mithrandir will be able to talk the twins and Arador into turning back before long. Being away from the valley makes me uncomfortable.

* * *

 

_Minas Tirith, Laire, T.A. 2872_

Dear Journal

I am surprised I am actually enjoying the sights and sounds of Minas Tirith, although the filth and stench leave much to be desired. My lords really know how to travel in style. After two weeks in the saddle, we are living it up in a fancy inn with warm baths, delicious food and very obliging maids. Must keep an eye on the purse though.

There was some Steward’s birthday fest in the streets and Mithrandir performed a few magic tricks to add on to our travel funds. Elrohir and Elladan did some singing and juggling but I doubt their antics will amuse their adar. Arador took off on some personal Dunedain business. They are still out there… Hm, I wonder what is taking them so long-

Sweet Eru! Is that part of the White Tree? What have you done now, my lords? We best be away quick! _(ink blot)_

* * *

 

_Imladris, Quelle, T.A. 2872_

Dear Journal

Gildor Inglorion and band brought news from down south. The White Tree of Gondor has withered and the Steward Belecthor II is dead. There, hope you three are pleased with yourselves now. Stealing a fruit of the White Tree indeed. I trust you did not mean to break off that branch the fruit was hanging from. Isildur wasn't that clumsy or he would never have made it out of Numenor. Why did you not talk Arador out of that madness, Mithrandir? It would be nice if we actually have a seedling but no, someone had to forget the bag with the fruit in it on some hill outside Minas Tirith. The only thing worse is if Belecthor had not passed from overall old age but was bashed over the head during the theft. None of you ran into anyone during the theft, did you?

On the upside, without a seedling to show for his adventure, no one will believe Arador if he claims he pulled off an Isildur-style stunt. I think it must have been a walk in the park stealing the fruit given the guards were all drunk from the birthday party. Arador’s common sense kicked in too on the return leg of the trip. Argonui will not appreciate his son’s escapade so we all swore never to speak of this matter. Nothing said about writing it down in my private journal.

Never more will I be persuaded to leave the safety of Imladris unless it is to sail.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know in the movie the had the Dead Tree reviving with Aragorn's return as King, but this little behind-the-scenes storyline is too good to pass up. In the book-verse, the Dead Tree stays dead and was buried in the House of the Dead after King Elessar brought the seedling of the White Tree he found into Minas Tirith.


	53. A New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another heir of Isildur's line is born as the elves welcome the Elven New Year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elrond is called on to act as midwife during one of Rivendell's major celebrations.

_Imladris, Mettare, T.A. 2872_

Dear Journal

Household in an uproar. Lord Elrond has been in the healing halls since dawn. The Dunedain brought Arador’s expectant wife into Imladris yesterday after some issues cropped up in the seventh month of her pregnancy at their chieftain Argonui’s insistence. Trust the man- he was around for most of his wife’s quickening and childbearing. In fact, Mithrandir always knew where to look for Argonui - at his little farmstead with his lady-wife and children, snug as a bug. Fortunately the family farm is quite tricky to get to. I recall the twins mention something about a rope ladder and some tricky signals and passwords. Elladan got it wrong once and earned an arrow in the rear for his pains - or perhaps he was mooning one of Argonui's lasses on a dare. 

Last night, the mother-to-be started having the pains, well ahead of schedule. The twins are worried this is some divine retribution for Arador’s messing about with the White Tree. They are praying at the household shrine in between assisting their adar in the birthing room. Heard from one of the Rangers Arador is off roaming around the Shire with Mithrandir. Apparently, they intend to contact the dwarves of the Blue Mountains or something. A ranger has been sent after them post-haste with the news. Well, personally, if my wife were expecting our first child, I would not be gallivanting about on mad adventures with wizards.

I am managing the household the best I can. Don't ask me to help with midwifing. I will likely faint. Argonui, his men and their horses still require feeding. No mood for celebrations now, not with Isildur’s lineage in danger. Arwen is making sure the necessary rites are carried out for the festival in her adar’s absence. It will never do to slight the Valar at this point.

Wait, what do you mean you forgot to tie the streamers for Lady Varda above the main door? And where’s the special miruvor for Lord Manwe’s table? Merciful Eru! What do you mean Glorfindel took it?

_(Figwit dashes off to put things in order for the Mettare rites)_

* * *

 

_Imladris, Yestare, T.A. 2873_

Dear Journal

Arador’s lady has been delivered of a healthy baby boy just as his ada came galloping in with Glorfindel. Poor Lord Elrond got quite overlooked as the proud new father loped in, snatched the freshly-swaddled infant from our master healer’s arms and kissed his wife. The little one’s name will be Arathorn after that legendary Dunedain chieftain. Captain Glorfindel clearly did not like how his lord was slighted thus and muttered something along the lines of ‘May he live as a blazing comet’.

It’s hard getting the news secondhand from a pair of totally exhausted elf-lordlings. Perhaps it is something to do with that Amanyan foresight of Fin's. Still, ominous words, since comets don’t hang around that long in my humble experience. One blink and you've missed them. Argonui not exactly thrilled by the prediction either. Arrangements are being made for fostering Arathorn II at an older… 

Wait, Erestor, what do you mean I should get started so the new parents can have some private time before supper? Hey, someone take this baby off me! Erestor! 

_(A flustered Figwit juggles his journal with one hand and a squalling Arathorn II in the other.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some ominous words from Glorfindel there. Don't drop the baby, Figwit.


	54. Fell Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fell Winter in Eriador and another Chieftain shuffles off the mortal coil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Temperatures in Imladris plummet and everyone is huddled in the Hall of Fire.

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 2911_

Dear Journal

Apologies for the scrawl but I am freezing my fingers off. This is one of the worst winters I have ever in my long years experienced. Everyone in the Last Homely House is in the Hall of Fire and bundled in furs, including Lord Elrond. Elladan and Elrohir are away wintering with the Dunedain. They always had a fondness for riding with Arathorn. I fondly recall winters past where the trio would pelt me with snowballs until I was neck-deep in a drift. Still, compared to his namesake, Arathorn II is much more manageable as a lad. Must be Argonui’s influence. The old Chieftain moved to Imladris some years after Arathorn was fostered. We have enjoyed many discussions on gardening and we have him to thank for the new hives.

Erestor fussing about the cost of keeping the place heated. We are using up the firewood at an alarming pace just to keep warm. Henceforth, only the Hall of Fire, House of Healing and kitchens will have access to firewood. The baths are apparently closed until spring. Too bad no one told that unfortunate ellon who ended up crashing through the ice which had formed on the bath. Not me. I deny any allegations I broke my leg in a childish act like diving into the baths like an elfling. I simply slipped on some ice, that’s all.

Lord Elrond firmly declined to use his Ring to warm up the valley, as usual. Lady Arwen and Lindir taking turns to keep everyone’s spirits up with music and good food. Elrond a tad concerned about Argonui’s cough. The old chap has barely been eating anything more than soup these weeks. Elrond has instructed the cooks to make it as nutritious as possible for his patient. Cocoa, hearty stews and mulled wines are making the rounds courtesy of the kitchens under Arwen’s able management.

Brr, I hope Fin and the twins found somewhere warm to shelter for the season. I cannot imagine why Mithrandir wants them about near the Shire. Those hobbits can definitely fend for themselves. I cannot wait until spring is here. Erestor being a spoilsport and warning of floods come spring when all the ice and snow upstream melts.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 2912_

Dear Journal

Today we mourn the passing of yet another Chieftain. Argonui perished the result of an act of bravery – leaping into the Bruinen to rescue a Dunedain child who had been knocked out of her mother’s arms by a sudden surge of water at the Ford. The child is shocked but unhurt. Argonui managed to pass her to one of Fin’s guards before that blasted tree stump got him. He had been so looking forward to returning to his beloved farmstead and taking his death there, preferably next to the grave of his wife. We fished him out downstream and Elrond is making arrangements with the new Chieftain Arador to have the body sent home.

That ford has always been a problem in spring with the meltwater from the mountains. This latest incident has urged Elrond to start considering a more direct intervention in our one and only river crossing into Imladris. Elrond has always avoided using Vilya’s powers as far as possible for fear of drawing attention to our little haven. Perhaps the Istar Mithrandir would be able to advise should he drop by.

Erestor, are you sure we are supposed to slather poor Argonui with this icky resin stuff? Oh, to keep the bugs away, I see. Near Haradrim-style mummification. I guess you learn something new every year. Wait, did you say to dry his waterlogged corpse in the smoke house first? The same smokehouse with the household’s hams and smoked trout? Eww… Gross… Can’t we just put him in a sealed box and have Arador take him home that way? He does not need anyone looking on his face again once he gets home, right? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figwit broke his leg in a childish stunt, despite what he wrote ;) He was so happy to have the baths all to himself (because everyone else received Erestor's cost-cutting memo and are huddled in the Hall of Fire) and dove into the bath without checking the water temperature first. 
> 
> I picture the Near Haradrim as proto-Egyptians practising some primitive form of mummification for the purposes of this fic. If we map the world of Middle Earth with their real-world equivalent location, I think the location and scant descriptions Tolkien did provide of the climate, it should be about the Middle East region. I think Figwit would be more grossed out if Erestor does the entire Egyptian mummification practice of hooking the brain out from the nostrils.


	55. The Wedding of Arathorn II and Gilraen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The courtship and wedding of Arathorn II and Gilraen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arathorn II seeks his foster father's and his Eldar friends' aid in persuading his beloved's parents to agree to their marriage. Some advice are better not followed.

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 2928_

Dear Journal

Eru spare us from lovesick fools. Arathorn II just rode in to ask advice of Lord Elrond – seems he has fallen for some Dunedain maid. The problem? This young maid is really young for a Dunedain. She just turned 21. Arathorn is really pushing his luck. Erestor thinks he knows the family – descended from one of Aranarth’s younger sons, of Isildur’s line. Arador not too thrilled but he is willing to go along if the bride’s family approves. Otherwise, Arathorn will have to wait until she is older.

Lady Arwen is currently away at her grandmother’s. Understand her intention is to stay there until Arda breaks, or until her brothers quit pulling childish pranks involving her hairbrush and stuff. Elrond has relented and set the twins off to ride with the Dunedain of the North, which was what he should have done in the first place before the sticky hairbrush incident happened. Idle lordlings cause trouble for the entire household. Just ask the laundresses about the dye in the tubs. Did you seriously think I have taken the initiative to dye all the linens bright orange?

I digress – It is fortunate the twins are off riding with Arador as after that Aunt Melly debacle some centuries back, I seriously doubt any advice given to Arathorn by the pair would be sound. Elrond is approaching the issue with all his two Ages of experience and gravity – who are we kidding? Lord Elrond is clueless about dealing with matters of the heart. If only Celebrian were here…

Lindir is eager to help, but seriously… Arathorn II was never much of a bard. Serenading the lass outside her window might just have her folks thinking they are being besieged by wargs. Move them? Methinks it will move them out of Eriador for sure. Do not, I repeat, do not by any account take Fin and Erestor’s advice. I doubt getting the lass with child before the wedding will improve your standing as future chieftain. Arvedui could pull that stunt off because he was still a prince of Arnor and let’s just say his law-father was probably weighing in on it as the only way to get the Council of Gondor to agree to unite both the North and South Kingdoms through marriage.

What? That’s it, Elrond? Go ask the lass’ parents respectfully for her hand in marriage? Milord, what’s to stop the lass’ ada from giving him the boot? Shouldn’t we have some back-up plan in case? A pair of swift horses from the stables, steadfast friends and an escape route to Imladris… Wait, Fin, that sounds like we are going to kidnap the lass.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 2929_

Dear Journal

Gildor and his merry band just tumbled into Imladris with news from Eriador. The Dunedain have just celebrated the wedding of Arathorn II and his young bride Gilraen. It took a bit of convincing but once he got his law-mother’s support, half the battle for Gilraen’s hand was won. Seems his law-father was not one to oppose his wife, especially since she’s the one in the family with the gift of foresight.

Understand that the main concern was Arathorn II’s expected short life. Clearly Glorfindel’s comet comment has been making the rounds of the Dunedain. No parents wish their little girl to be widowed so young. Thus far, we have no complaints from the wives of all preceding Chieftains about the risky nature of their work. Normally, their husbands tend to outlive them. Well, there is always a first time…

Heard Arathorn’s law-mother had some additional words about a new hope springing from the union. Duh, we will be expecting another foster son of Imladris running about the place, terrorising poor Uncle Mel. Eru, is there no end to this blight? Perhaps I should make plans to sail…

Elrohir and Elladan are chafing they were not able to attend the stag party thanks to an orc-clearing patrol in the Misty Mountains. Really, recall the last time you attended a stag party? Arador was so hungover, Fin had to hold him up to get him through the rites. His lady was not amused and almost called the whole thing off. Then he puked onto the offerings for the Valar… There was the time your bright idea with Mithrandir’s fireworks had Arahad II’s wedding postponed for three months until his burns healed. Also the incident with a barrel in the river and bridegroom-to-be Aravorn… And you wonder why the Dunedain do not invite you to their sons’ stag parties.

I wish Arathorn II and Gilraen all the best. Oh, boys, do your ada and Uncle Mel a favour – try not to get Arathorn II killed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figwit has a very low opinion of Arathorn's singing. A little recap - Arvedui was the last Arnorian king and his wife was a princess of Gondor. The Chieftains are all descended from that union. 
> 
> I let Ivorwen's (Gilraen's mother) prophecy echo a certain First Age prophecy involving Tuor and Idril. A new hope will spring from this current union.


	56. Troll Autumn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arador is killed by hill-trolls north of Rivendell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imladris loses another of her fosterlings. Lord Elrond suspects the Shadow is encroaching on his haven of peace.

_Imladris, Quelle, T.A. 2930_

Dear Journal

I think I am turning into a sentimental old fool of an elf. I should have learnt by now not to get too attached to those little boys who come through Imladris to be fostered to Lord Elrond. I think the other members of the household probably feel the same. Perhaps Lady Arwen is right in staying away in Lothlorien. Just caught Glorfindel sniffling in the back garden. He was always fond of Arador. He has asked Lindir to compose a fitting ballad in the memory of his late protégé.

Which brings me to the gist of this entry – Chieftain Arador of the Dunedain is no more. Poor lad had a run-in with some hill-trolls just north of the valley while on his way to winter with us. He had been travelling with two younger companions and one of them is still lying in the House of Healing with a very dire prognosis. We buried his brother at dawn. As soon as we got word from the border patrol on the incident, the twins rode out with a rescue party but it was too late. They brought back what was left of poor Arador in a bucket after they scrapped him off the cave-floor. A curse on all trolls and their ilk.  

A messenger has been dispatched to the Bree where Mithrandir and Arathorn are currently staying and they should be reaching Imladris within the next few days – unless Mithrandir has hauled Arathorn off to Gondor or the Blue Mountains. Really, I know Lady Gilraen is in good hands with her naneth but she is awfully young to have her first child. Elrohir and Elladan dropped by her farmstead some weeks ago and were pleased to report she was holding up well. Still, she would definitely prefer her husband to be around for the birth.

Erestor and Elrond are highly concerned as the trolls have never ventured so close to the valley and it would seem that Arador’s capture was a well-planned ambush. The twins also state that contrary to troll habits, Arador had not been devoured, unlike the animal, human and dwarf bones littering the cave would suggest was the fate of other guests the trolls brought home to their cave. Elrond believes the Shadow has a hand in this. Hill-trolls so near to Imladris and preying on one of the main highways of Eriador is a threat we must deal with swiftly. Gildor Inglorion’s party has been hanging out east of the Misty Mountains for the past decade or so in Lothlorien. A fortunate thing they really took to Lady Galadriel’s hospitality as I doubt any of the Merry Company could stand up to a troll.

Glorfindel is mustering a posse of stalwart elves to eradicate the nest. Elladan and Elrohir have already put their names down to ride with them once Lord Elrond agrees to the campaign. Elrond is reluctant to give his captain the go-ahead. He believes we lack the necessary numbers and will need aid from the Dunedain. Moreover, with the shorter days and the weather, we are lucking out. Only fools go troll-hunting in winter.

Arador has been buried with due honours as befit a Chieftain as we deemed it better Arathorn remembers his adar as he was in life – not as a bucket of mangled flesh and bone. At 57, he is still considered young by Eldar standards and he will need all the help he can get.

Yes, Erestor, the dentition of trolls is quite interesting. Do you mind getting that chewed-up ox femur out of my face?

* * *

 

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 2930_

Dear Journal

Lord Elrond is livid as his captain, sons and the new Chieftain of the Dunedain have wilfully chosen to ignore his wise counsel and ride out to slay some hill-trolls. It was fortunate Mithrandir was with them. Otherwise we might have the sad task of explaining to Lady Gilraen what happened to her husband. Chieftain Arathorn II managed to convince the Rangers of the North to send a troop of twenty men through some really inspirational speech about protecting the people of Eriador.

Some Dwarves of the Blue Mountains (who were for some reason hanging out with Mithrandir at _The Prancing Pony_ ) wanted in on the action after hearing news their caravans have been picked off by Dwarf-eating trolls. Personally, I am surprised the trolls did not choke on all those garrulous Dwarves. I hear they are still seeking their missing king Thrain II after he went missing a few centuries back. Perhaps old Thrain II was one of those piles of old bones in that troll-nest.

Heard from Glorfindel that the Dwarves and Rangers proved their mettle in battle by luring the trolls out into the open and trapping them there until sunrise. We can credit Mithrandir with that strategy, and the Valar’s blessings we had a clear sunrise instead of the miserable sleet so common this time of the year. After which, the dwarves vented their anger by smashing the petrified trolls to gravel-dust. Elladan kindly brought me a sack full for use on the herb garden path. Imp. Methinks I will dump the lot at the far end of the valley into the Bruinen, lest the herb gardens be haunted by troll-ghosts.

Arathorn II has ridden home in victory to his wife and people in the company of the twins, who narrowly dodged being grounded with stable-duties until next spring. Fin is less fortunate and Elrond has sentenced him to transcribing the _Annals of Gil-galad’s Court_ into Sindarin and Westron under Erestor’s supervision. I don’t know why Erestor is crying – he is not the one being punished.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arathorn II has proven himself in battle avenging his father's death, though his foster father is not amused by the foolhardy risks taken.


	57. Well Met, Estel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Hope has come to Rivendell. Need I say more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was a toss-up between Figwit recording Aragorn II’s birth and his adar’s death. I chose to have his birth a quiet one with no complications requiring Lord Elrond’s intervention or Imladris.

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2933_

Dear Journal

Just when you think you are out of Mirkwood, an orc-arrow nails you in the butt. I was looking forward to a couple more years of peacefully minding my beehives and herb garden when the twins came trotting in looking very shame-faced. With them are two very special Dunedain guests. Arathorn II is no more.

They were riding with the Rangers when they ran headlong into a troop of orcs. The twins fought alongside the Chieftain to protect him. Erestor now reflects that this move was a mistake on the part of Glorfindel’s tactics for protecting the Heir of Isildur. Seriously, even the dimmest orc would have figured out by now the Chieftain is the one being protected by a pair of handsome Peredhil. It worked for a while. Then some lucky orc archer gets an arrow past the twins and into Arathorn’s eye. Resident minstrel Lindir is currently working on a ballad honouring the too-short life of Arathorn II.

His young widow is understandably distraught. To protect her young son, she has brought him to Imladris to be placed under Lord Elrond’s protection. Hm, he looks a bright youngster – the worst type to be getting into mischief. I wonder if he realizes his ada is gone. The twins are being very gentle with our guests… Arathorn’s son is having a grand time riding on Elrohir’s horse.

Asked the little one if he knows where his adar has gone. He just shrugs and says “Outside circle…” Methinks my heart just broke. Elrohir trying to blink away his tears, just like his twin. Showed mother and son to the guesthouse. Will have to arrange nursemaids for the new Chieftain-   

Wait, beg pardon, milord? Lady Gilraen will be staying here in Imladris too with her son? I guess that means we get to save on the nursemaids. No?

* * *

 

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 2933_

Dear Journal

Elrond has commanded that our little guest shall henceforth be known as Estel. Seriously, what kind of name is that for an Adan? No mentions of Chieftains or Heirs of Isildur. Still, I must acknowledge the wisdom in my lord’s judgement. The mantle of Chieftain is a heavy one for a man grown, what more an infant. Lady Gilraen is being treated with all due honour and kindness but I really wish she would show some appreciation. She has not been eating well and Elrond fears for her health. Cook is annoyed her trays keep coming back barely touched.

Little Estel is bewildered by his nana’s behaviour. We keep telling him his naneth is ill and promise him she would be back to her former self. However, I doubt this is a promise the Imladrim can keep. Lady Gilraen’s grief is deep-rooted. Lord Elrond took me into his confidence that were she Elven, he would have put her on the next ship to Valinor. Sailing is not an option for the Edain although many feel the loss of their One as keenly as the Eldar due to Elros’ bloodline in their veins. Like her lord, Gilraen is descended from the line of Isildur himself.

Elrond's staunch denial of any links between Estel and the Dunedain Chieftains have been met with malicious gossip in some parts of the valley. Heard a wild rumour about Estel being Elrond's bastard. Well, there is some resemblance but please, everyone knows Elrond is utterly devoted to Lady Celebrian. Glorfindel has sworn to track down the source of that rumour and smite the one responsible. Perhaps that is why our stable-master is being driven from the valley tied to the tail of his horse? Note to self - get a new stable-master. 

Estel is a winsome lad. He has the kitchen staff cooing and fussing over him instead of preparing luncheon for the Last Homely House. Since his naneth is currently in no state to care for him, the ellyth have been volunteering to be his nursemaid. I have selected Nellas as she is a mature elleth with many years of experience caring for Edain children. Niethil will also assist her in her task.

The twins have taken it on themselves to guide Estel or, to put it more accurately, lead him into mischief. Nellas has lodged a complaint with me about Elladan taking Estel up onto the roof of the Last Homely House last week. Must have a word with the twins about child-safety. Must also advise Cook to hide the barrels lest we have a re-enactment of the twins' ride over the falls. Niethil just came to my office to say that Elrohir has taken Estel rock-climbing instead of putting him to bed for his nap… I hear Lord Elrond demanding to know who left Estel sleeping on a rock ledge outside the library window…

Is there any more of that headache medicine in the House of Healing? I feel a bad one coming on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry. They will get sleepyhead Estel back in to safety off that ledge. Seriously, it is a miracle the twins did not manage to get any more of their foster-brothers killed over the years. The apple-barrel ride has become a legend in Rivendell and a tempting rite of passage for the little ones in the Last Homely House.


	58. A Short Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin's Company arrives in Rivendell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that fling Glorfindel had with a Dwarrowdam? Blond dwarves and mayhem result.

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2938_

Dear Journal

Estel is such a sweet child. I keep forgetting he is not an elfling as he really behaves like one. Erestor says this is because he is effectively raised by elves and has picked up our habits. Lady Gilraen tries to spend some quality time with him but the little one is more at ease with elves. He just asked Lord Elrond if he can help out in the House of Healing and learn how to make his nana better. I really wish he were an elf so that we can continue enjoying his company for centuries to come and longer in Aman when we do sail.

Estel asked Celeborn the last time he visited Imladris when his ears will turn pointy if ever. The Lord of Lothlorien told Estel as gently as he could that he is not an elf but an Adan. Elrond had to step in to stop Celeborn from blurting out everything about Estel’s real lineage. Estel was horribly upset and the twins had to cheer him up with a picnic by the river.

Must not get too sentimental. Once he comes of age, he will be joining the Rangers and turn all smelly, stubbly and uncouth, just like most of the other fosterlings. Best enjoy it while it lasts. I will miss little Estel. _(Tear-drop)_

* * *

 

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 2941_

Dear Journal

Mandos take that fool Lindir. Why can’t you not send the Dwarves off by telling them Lord Elrond is not in? We now have to play host to 13 Dwarves and a Hobbit. Ugh, the dwarves are bathing in the fountain! My eyes! My eyes! We sent Glorfindel to talk some proper decorum into the bunch but our Balrog-Slayer apparently decided to join the fun soaking in Elrond’s fountain. Hey, Fin, you don’t know what caves they have been nosing in! A naked Balrog-Slayer in the fountain is not something you see every day. Fie, Fin, you should be setting a good example for the young ones. It's not okay to skinny-dip in the fountain.  

Having such unruly guests in the Last Homely House is a bad influence on Estel. Thankfully, he has gone with the twins on an unapproved camping trip to the falls. Lord Elrond will definitely chew the twins out for this on their return. The last time they took Estel with them, Estel almost drowned learning to swim in the icy cold river. Early spring is a lousy time to learn swimming, even more so if your idea of learning to swim is plunging directly off a cliff into the waterfall pool.

Glorfindel was chatting with the two younger dwarves, including the blond one, when he went all pale and fled for the hills, in only his skin. I seem to recall some rumours about Fin and a Dwarrowdam back in T.A. 2500 something. Methinks Fin has just come face-to-face with the results of his long-ago fling, grandsons or something. They still look like dwarves, although one has golden hair and both are tall for dwarves their age. Hey, Fin, I think the brunette has pointy ears, just like yours.  

Someone please send a robe after our captain. It will not do for the twins, and Estel, to encounter him running naked through the woods of Imladris. Perhaps I should take a leaf from Lady Gilraen’s book and lie low until they move on.  

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2941_

Dear Journal

We have yet to rid ourselves of our guests. Elrond and Mithrandir have been holding council in the library and I am left to deal with the feeding and housing of the dwarves and a Hobbit. Mister Bilbo Baggins is a civilized chap. He seems to be interested in Elrond’s library, at least the Westron collection. He is holed up with Erestor discussing Hobbit-lore or something. To keep him happy, I have been sending up trays of tea, scones and biscuits, much to Erestor’s annoyance. He hates finding crumbs and jam-stains on his scrolls.

Thankfully, I hear that they would be leaving tomorrow as they need to reach the Lonely Mountain by Durin’s Day or something. Isn’t there a dragon there? I will not mind if the Dwarves all get burnt to a crisp but the Hobbit is polite company. He gave me a recipe for honey almond scones and butter shortbread which sounds great. Also exchanged some tips on growing tomatoes. Of course, he does have a healthy appetite and that pipe of his… I guess it is a fair trade-off, unlike the dwarves. Seriously, they make the pigs look like neat-freaks. Still, it will be a sorry end for Mister Baggins to wind up as dragon chow. Hope Mithrandir knows what he is doing. 

Elrond is calling for Fin. Perhaps he is getting the itch to go on a vacation again or visit his daughter in Lothlorien. Lady Arwen is taking up some advanced studies in Songs of Power or some other elven magic from her grandmother there. Alternatively, she might be hanging out with Haldir and his brothers. Someone tell Elrond his captain is hiding in the cellar until his probable grandsons leave to avoid awkward questions.  

Estel and the twins have returned from their camping trip and – Holy Manwe! Why is Estel skinny-dipping in the fountain?  

_(Figwit runs off with a towel to get Estel out of the fountain.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figwit lets slip a bit of sentimentality into his journal.


	59. March on Dol Guldur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Figwit missed the highlights of the Third White Council meeting, here’s why. And Estel shows his stubborn side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, I think I may have messed-up the book and movie-verse. Hope this untangles it a bit.

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2941_

Dear Journal

I can’t believe Lord Elrond did this to me! How could he? After all my yeni of loyal service… I am the chamberlain, not Lindir or Erestor! Why was I not informed of this secret White Council meeting thing under the guise of hosting a dwarf-party in the valley? I should have guessed something was up with those giant rabbit sightings by the kitchen staff (besides the missing Dorwinion). Okay, so I freaked out when I saw the dwarves and went into hiding, still… Lindir could have managed the dwarves… Don’t give me that look, Lindir. I was not the one who pelted you with my dinner.

Erestor, you must tell me how you managed to smuggle Saruman and Galadriel into the valley, without them killing each other too. Oh, Radagast gave Galadriel a ride on his rabbit-sled and they camped out for old time’s sake in the woods by the falls. No wonder Estel has taken a shine to rabbits. Hope it doesn’t stick as it is rabbit stew tonight. 

Erestor, I do not owe you anything for having you deal with Saruman. I was not informed of his Wise Wizard-ness’ visit after all. Still, I am amazed you were able to rig his room exactly as he asked, down to the snowy-white sheets. And you set up for him a workshop in the old stable buildings for his projects? Really, I think you do it for kicks because you like to sneak stuff about under my nose and show off. Wait, I smell something foul in this room. Eru, has Saruman taken up pipeweed too? Ugh!

March on Dol Guldur against the Necromancer aka the Dark Lord? No way! Fin, please say you are kidding… Or at least tell me I can stay home, pretty please… Oh, you just need my help provisioning the troops? I am to stay at home with Estel? That’s fine then. Let’s go see what the Dwarves and Hobbit left in our stores.

Oh, by the way, I am perfectly fine marching on the Dark Lord’s fortress – just doing my bit for Imladris, you know…

* * *

 

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 2941_

Dear Journal

Just as I was congratulating myself on a obedient charge, Fin caught Estel trying to sneak off to join the troops by hitching a ride in a supply cart. He wants to be with his Ada - as that is what he calls Elrond now. Hello to more tongues wagging about Elrond hooking up with some mortal lady. Saruman is looking all funny at the lad but he has a cartload of stuff he needs to fetch from his workshop in Orthanc. So he is not hanging about to pry. 

Erestor and the twins will be making a detour to Lothlorien and probably Mirkwood to seek out Legolas if he is keen for some fortress-storming. It is his ancestral seat after all. Understand from latest letter from the Crown Prince that Thranduil sent his son off to haunt the borders of Lothlorien and try hooking up with Elrond's daughter for political reasons. Legolas is not really keen on the idea and chose to shack it up with some of his border guard buddies on the southern marches nearest Dol Guldur. Beats getting booted out by Lord Celeborn for hassling his granddaughter. 

Wait, that leaves me and Lindir in Imladris and... 

Estel, get back here! 

_(Figwit chases after Estel to stop him from climbing into the supply cart again.)_

* * *

 

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 2941_

Dear Journal

Caught Estel trying to steal a horse and ride over the mountains. Fortunately, he chose the wrong horse and Sorrel took him back to the Last Homely House once he fell asleep in the saddle. Good girl, Sorrel. 

* * *

 

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 2941_

Dear Journal

Needed to thwart a runaway attempt by Estel this morning, I think it is the twenty-fifth one since Lord Elrond left. Very tempted to chain Estel up in the cellar but that might be taking it a little too far... 

Estel now is hanging onto a sheet-rope outside my window about twenty feet off the ground. Methinks it is attempt twenty-six. Let's go see about those chains once I haul Estel back in. 

* * *

 

_Imladris, Quelle, T.A. 2941_

Dear Journal

Tried once more to explain to Estel he is too young to go to Dol Guldur. Little one gets all sassy and claims he will ride to the gates of Mordor once he is grown-up and he might as well start somewhere. Fine, he can start by mucking out the stables and caring for the horses. The household is a little short there. We do not need another Earnur... Cue a rare tantrum from our little chieftain. 

Lady Gilraen came out of her gloom long enough to have a few quiet words with her son and Estel is now setting to his tasks bathing the horses and mucking out the stalls seriously. Good Dunedain boys always finish their chores before going to play war. I think she missed out the fact half of Imladris has gone to war for real. Hmm, perhaps if I put him on kitchen duties, perhaps it would take his mind off Elrond and the battle long enough for everyone to get back home. May Manwe keep them safe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figwit missed quite a bit while hiding from Thorin’s company. I have this image of him catching sight of the company, utterly freaking out and holing up in the kitchens or somewhere until the coast is clear thanks to the trauma of the last mob of Dwarves calling on Imladris. I timed it so the White Council members arrived slightly later than Thorin’s company and after Figwit's disappearing act.


	60. Eastwards Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Estel joins the twins on an extended diplomatic trip over the Misty Mountains. Figwit goes along for the ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figwit really hates travelling. Twins cannot stay out of trouble.

_Misty Mountains, Laire, T.A. 2944_

Dear Journal

Why me? Once more I have allowed myself to be convinced to leave the safety of the valley and accompany the twins and my ward to visit the newly re-established kingdom of Dale. At thirteen, Estel is very eager to see the world. He has grown much over the past months and now resembles a colt with his long legs. We will also be making a diplomatic call on Erebor after Dale. The twins have also accepted an invitation to Mirkwood to hang out for a bit with Prince Legolas and take his mind off that guard he was sweet on. She sailed last year due to grief over a dead Dwarf… Seriously? A Dwarf? No wonder Legolas is feeling mopey.

For some reason, we are not riding. Something about the twins’ horses having colic and stuff. No, I am not a lousy rider. I do not get knocked out cold by low-hanging branches or thrown into brambles. Still, a trek on foot allows the twins to instruct Estel in the local flora and fauna as well as brush up on his tracking and hunting.

Straws drawn and I am cooking again. At least it beats Elladan’s scorched soup surprise and hard-tack. Elrohir forgot the lembas and hunting in lacking in the High Pass. We were lucky Estel caught a pigeon today. Not so lucky he felt sorry for the critter and let it go free. It is dried bean soup tonight. Surprised Glorfindel and Erestor are sitting this one out… Hm, methinks I am being set up for something. Journey uneventful so far. Stopped to make camp by some big rocks Estel spotted… A bit gloomy but a fire should cheer us up.

Elbereth! These ain’t rocks! They are trolls! _(ink-blot)_

_(The elves and Estel flee mountain trolls.)_

Got rescued from some nasty trolls by friendly Eagles, courtesy of Mithrandir. Estel miffed because he ruined his new dagger trying to stab one (the troll not the bird) before Elrohir dragged him to safety. I hate flying, I hate flying… If elves were meant to fly, Eru would have given us wings. Still, it beats getting eaten by a troll. Happy to be alive.

Eagles dumped us onto a huge rock and we came face-to-face with a great bear. Almost fell off rock in shock. Eru has a weird sense of humour. Turns out the bear is Beorn the Skinchanger and he is a friend of Mithrandir. He was out on his evening stroll, to get away from his missus who is a bit cranky with the baby due next month. He brought some honey cakes to share with us and invited us to his home to spend the night, or hopefully, a few days. I am too old for all this excitement.   

* * *

 

_Road to Mirkwood, Laire, T.A. 2944_

Dear Journal

How nice. We have left the relative safety and warm hospitality of Beorn’s homestead for the dangers of Mirkwood. At least Beorn has kindly waived the toll for us. His missus insisted we take some of their cakes for lunch. Mithrandir recalled some chess game he has to catch up with at Radagast's place, so he’s not going to be about to save us from any nasty spiders.

Elladan and Elrohir regaling us with tales of spiders, orcs and other unfriendly wildlife in Mirkwood. Is there really an elf-eating tree? How does one avoid getting turned into fertilizer? Elladan advises me to take two sticks and beat them together to scare the tree off. Elrohir recommends smearing crushed honey cake on my hair. Seriously, lads. I was not born yesterday. _(ink blot)_

Approaching the boundaries of Mirkwood now. Forest looks even creepier than I recalled. I hear some strange noises in the shadows. Estel, do you still have some honey cake left from lunch?

* * *

 

_Mirkwood, Laire, T.A. 2944_

Dear Journal

Warmly welcomed by the Crown Prince and King Thranduil. Usual woodland feast of berries, nuts and game-meats. Squirrel is a bit stringy and the venison too pungent for my liking. Pass the Dorwinion, please.

Estel too young to drink but did not appreciate the need to water down his wine. Feeling sick now and Legolas has kindly offered to take him to his room and feed him some medicine to settle his poor tummy. Twins and His Majesty going head to head with the Dorwinion. I am putting my money on the Elven-king winning this drinking contest. Must ask Legolas to save some hangover medicine for the twins.

* * *

 

_Mirkwood, Laire, T.A. 2944_

Dear Journal

Awoke with a troll-sized headache. Understand Estel and twins no better. Twins spending the morning in Thranduil’s chambers where they eventually ended up after their drinking contest. Refuse to speculate on the state of undress they were all in under the sheets of the king’s bed when I delivered their spare garments as requested. Thranduil making sly digs about Elrond’s limber young bucks and sending some obliging elves to deal with their carnal needs. Eru help me ignore references to Elorhir’s pert rear end and Elladan’s sweet lips.  

Legolas had a rough night nursing Estel for whom the elf-medicine did not work that well.  Estel has been tossing his dinner until his stomach was quite empty. Legolas had to prop him up for some light broth. Sending a messenger out for herbal concoctions said to work for humans.

Seeking to rekindle my relationship with that foxy elleth from the kitchens from my last visit but learnt she has since married and is now expecting elfling number two. Tried my luck with her unmarried sister to no avail. Expect to be bored out of my mind while Estel and the twins recover…

* * *

 

_Dale, Laire, T.A. 2944_

Dear Journal

Finally on road to Dale after a week in Thranduil’s halls. Thankfully, they provided ponies for Legolas’ delegation. The Mirkwood elves are going to discuss trade with King Bard. The twins a bit stiff in the saddle after spending the week enjoying Thranduil’s, erm, hospitality. Not speculating at all those hours they spent in Thranduil’s chambers or the private dungeons. Estel has his own little Mirkwood pony from Legolas as a gift. Lucky kid. Hope the trolls don’t get it on the way home to Imladris.

Warmly received by the people of Dale before being whisked off to the king’s. His hovel was only slightly larger than the others. Well, guess the palace is still under construction. Saw a scruffy-looking man by the door and asked him to take my cloak before realizing that was King Bard of Dale. One would expect him to make some effort to appear regal, but no. It is Bard the Bargeman of Laketown in his usual work-clothes. Hoped he bathed recently. Meeting took place with food and drink and Bard’s children running riot about us. Had to untangle a young one’s sticky fingers from my hair. Estel joined in the games of the little ones while Legolas and the twins discuss business with Bard. Kids ran out into the streets. Can’t let Estel get run over by some farm cart. Uncle Mel gets to babysit Estel plus all his new playmates from Dale while the twins chill out with royalty.

Lord Manwe help me…

* * *

 

_Erebor, Laire, T.A. 2944_

Dear Journal

After two days in Dale, we bid a fond farewell to the humans and headed off for Erebor guided by a young dwarf, Gimli, son of Gloin. I was glad to leave the stink and racket of Dale. Sadly, the stink and noise of the Dwarrow halls is far worse. Relations between Erebor and Mirkwood still testy so our Mirkwood friends returned to Thranduil’s Halls after the trade negotiations in Dale were wound up. Including Estel’s pony – poor beast was so terrified by the roar of the furnaces in Erebor she turned and ran for Mirkwood. Estel very upset. Can’t blame the pony. The heat and racket from the caves sounds as if Smaug were still in residence there. Of course he is now lying as a pile of bones on the lake-bed. Legolas took a detour there to prove to Estel there are no more dragons in these parts. Blame the twins for giving him nightmares about dragons.

Estel drawing loads of attention from some dwarves… Creepy how maternal these dwarves could get. One is so huge, he looks pregnant with twins. Wait, you mean to say those wickedly-bearded dwarves are all ladies? Eewww, now I know why they stay home or pass themselves off as their brothers on the road. Estel is tired of the cooing, cheek-pinching and ‘what a handsome lad’ comments. Still, he got the gift of a new dagger from Dain II himself to make up for the loss of his pony. 

Twins conducted themselves perfectly before King Dain Ironfoot. It was as if they were channelling Lord Elrond the wise. Treaty of goodwill signed. Then they got tipsy on the Dwarven beer and started channelling King Thranduil I-loathe-dwarves. Racist remarks and jokes, even in drunken jest, did not sit well with Dain II or his court. The one about the dwarrowdam and Captain Fin in the hayloft had me chuckling though. Must ask Fin about his bearded lady when we get home. Twins end up sobering up in the dungeons of Erebor for the night before being unceremoniously set on the road home. Dunno if the treaty between Imladris and Erebor still holds in this case.

Methinks the sooner we get home, the less trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is nothing between Tauriel and Legolas, despite the gossip. Figwit gets no break from the time he fell off his horse a few centuries back. An Elf-eating tree?


	61. Growing Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Estel hits puberty with all the usual awkwardness and shindigs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite his teenage awkwardness, Estel starts attracting the attentions of the local ellyth.

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 2946_

Dear Journal

This morning at breakfast we were faced with the undeniable fact that Estel is growing up into an Adan despite prayers for his elf-heritage to kick in and turn him elf. Estel bemoaned the spouting of his first stubble meant he would be less attractive to the ellyth. Understand that Estel has been asking the twins and his foster-father on certain changes in his body – including that awkward few months when his voice broke. Elrohir has confirmed whispers of Estel walking out with various comely elf-maids, nothing too compromising. Despite her reclusiveness, Lady Gilraen keeps a tight enough rein on her son and instilled some real solid values into him. Of course, they will only last until Estel is re-introduced to his fellow Rangers and they take him to the first house of pleasure. Do believe there is one such establishment in Bree.

Expecting Mithrandir to pop up and drag him off to the Dunedain. Hope it is not too much of a shock. Lady Gilraen has brought him along with her to visit her parents once or twice but hanging out on a quiet farmstead is a whole different matter from the rough-and-tumble Rangers of the North. Things definitely were quieter in the valley since the Rangers stopped dropping by to join the feasts. They still turn up at the Ford when they have injuries for Lord Elrond to tend to, or if they are dropping the twins or Fin off. Part of Mithrandir's plan to keep their Chieftain safe. 

Estel is thrilled by the tales of the twins and has been badgering Lord Elrond to let him ride with the Rangers. Hope Elrond realizes what a treasure he has in Estel as his apprentice. He has already picked up stuff Elrond took the better part of an Age to drill into Elladan and Elrohir. They still make their constipation remedy too strong. I see Erestor making a dash for the privy. Bet he is regretting not waiting for Elrond to be in the House of Healing before visiting it.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2946_

Dear Journal

Estel growing like a weed. He needs a new tunic as his sleeves are too short. Seems only a few months ago we visited the tailor-elf. I have also ordered a longer robe and pants as his shins are showing too much. Estel’s voice has settled enough for him to sing alongside Lindir without the Hall of Fire descending into giggles. Lindir predicts he will have a nice baritone voice once he is done growing through it. You know, I think he is right.

Estel is having some awkward moments in the baths now that he is spouting hair in funny places. He is also feeling the stress from comparing his willy with those of the ellyn, in particular Glorfindel. Wish that ellon will quit flaunting his Valar-given endowments – size isn’t everything. I think I should go see the seamstress about Estel’s new robe before the next feast-day.

Merciful Manwe. On entering the seamstress’ office, I encountered her on her knees –ahem- rearranging Estel’s robes. The little minx. At least someone is enjoying himself – they grow up so fast! _(smudge)_

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2947_

Dear Journal

Estel’s camping trips with the twins more frequent now. Mithrandir popped in to call on Elrond during one these extended trips. The Istar is a bit miffed. Methinks he was hoping to collar Estel and drag him back to the Dunedain as their Chieftain. More doom and gloom in Elrond’s study. Elrond sent down for some athelas and heartsease to fumigate out the doom-shadows after the meeting. I have sent a request to Lindir to sing something cheerful tonight. It is difficult to lift Elrond’s spirits without Estel, Arwen or Celebrain about. He still misses her, you know.

Thought Arwen and her brothers would be more considerate and stay in the valley to aid him. No. Arwen is living it up in Lothlorien as a regular elven princess. Just ask Haldir and brothers about the flower boats the next time they drop by with Lord Celeborn. Lady Galadriel has apparently gone all oracle-like with some magic mirror which very few are allowed to see. Celeborn had the three brothers flogged for snooping about the place – they thought it was some secret bathing pool for Galadriel and her maidens. Yes, Celeborn, they should be flogged, very hard. The boys are away hunting and camping more often than aiding their adar.

Now, about those camping trips… I hope it is not to that dubious establishment up the road in Bree.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We can expect the twins to be teaching Estel more than simple woodsmanship and tracking.


	62. Coming of Age

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arwen and Estel meet in Rivendell on the day Estel comes of age.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy meets girl. Girl meets boy. They fall in love. Parents panic.

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 2951_

Dear Journal

Lady Arwen has returned unannounced this morning with the gifts from Lothlorien. She has been of great help in the kitchens with all the new recipes she picked up over the mountains, and the quality spices from Lorien. Arwen states that she had been away so long and she misses her ada and brothers and would like to catch up with them. Not too thrilled to hear her brothers were away. Had to scramble to put her room back in order. Cobwebs everywhere. Did not appreciate the fact the twins have been using her place as some den – cherry stones and stalks everywhere. Then there are the walnut shells… Elbereth, you two are elf-lords, not dwarves. A quick sweep and a change of sheets should remedy that.

Haldir, Rumil and Orophin are catching up with Glorfindel on the training field. Or rather, our captain is mopping the floor with the trio after catching them singing some catchy ballad  _The Golden Elf with the Dwarf-wife_. Lord Celeborn has also made the journey though he reassures me they would be returning to Lothlorien within the week. He wished to speak with Lord Elrond on certain family matters. Erestor claims it is about Arwen’s marriage. Perhaps our little Arwen has found her One?

Judging from the raised voices coming from the study, Lord Elrond disapproves of whoever it is. Silly Lindir has to come singing down the hallway and drown out the rest of the conversation.

Me? Eavesdrop? No, not at all. I am just going to fetch some mint from the stores for the afternoon tea. 

* * *

 

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 2951_

Dear Journal

The twins rode in with Estel after an extended stay in the Mithlond over the winter. Elrond sent the trio over with some books and scrolls he wished Cirdan to ship over to Aman for his wife. I think they must include the latest portraits of the children and news of what has been happening in Middle Earth. Almost forgot it is Estel’s birth-day.

I have the kitchens preparing Estel’s favourite dishes for his birthday feast. Pity Lord Celeborn and his escort had to return to Lothlorien while the weather is clear. We have a hint of possible snow falling on the Redhorn Pass in a few more days. Arwen is here to stay, for now at least.

Private meeting in Elrond’s study this afternoon before the feast. Lord Elrond must be really pissed off to present Estel with a broken sword as his birthday gift – wait, you mean those are the Shards of Narsil? The Ring of Barahir also presented to Estel as the heirloom of his house as he is now of age. Lord Elrond revealed to Estel his true identity as the Heir of Isildur in the presence of Lady Gilraen and his sons. No one notices Uncle Mel when he is pouring out the drinks. Well, I am sticking with calling him Estel still. Aragorn sounds a bit too crude for such a fine young man. Estel takes the ring but leaves the broken sword with Elrond. Wise move. Broken swords are not particularly useful in any fight.

Everyone then adjourned to the garden for some flower-viewing before the feast. Estel bowled off his feet upon setting eyes on Arwen in the rose garden. Lady Gilraen seems quite alarmed by her son’s gobsmacked reaction at the vision of beauty that is our Evenstar. Lord Elrond’s brow dark as a storm-cloud as he heads back to the study. Twins have set up Lindir to sing _The Lay of Leithian._ You boys are definitely not helping. Gilraen has taken her son by the arm and steered him off to her rooms.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2951_

Dear Journal

Whispers have it that Estel and Arwen were seen in each other’s company in the moonlit gardens of Imladris, alone. Perhaps that is the reason for Elrond’s order that Estel leaves Imladris and re-joins his people to train to be a Ranger and their Chieftain. Estel left this morning with a kinsman of his mother – Halbarad the Half-wit. Hope he does not end up in the river this time. Lord Elrond, are you sure it is wise sending him off with that country cousin, even if it is just to the Shire?

Elladan and Elrohir busy catching up with their sister before going on a scheduled diplomatic visit to Thranduil’s Halls and Dale. Curiously, Mithrandir has not dropped by yet as expected. He wrote to Elrond saying he would be here for Estel’s coming-of-age and that was a few months back. Methinks he is caught up in a chess game somewhere, again.

Why is it I am getting the vibes of Beren and Luthien again? Must be Lindir singing that lay again. Hopefully, Estel’s infatuation with our Evenstar will wear off with time. Or Elrond might start acting like Elu Thingol and set some impossible task for poor Estel. Hope Arwen has been learning some powerful magic in Lothlorien.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Celeborn brought news from Galadriel, who definitely knows who Arwen's One is and her eventual choice. Sending Arwen home at this crucial time is also part of the scheme.


	63. The White Council Meets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> White Council convenes in Rivendell again. More headaches for poor Figwit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The meeting can get very heated.

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 2953_

Dear Journal

Wish me luck. Lord Elrond has decided to convene a meeting of the White Council and everyone knows what that means. Mithrandir and Saruman smoking like chimneys, twins having a prank fest, Celeborn and Thranduil holding drinking competitions below stairs, and who can forget Lady Galadriel and Glorfindel snogging in the linen closet the last time… Oh, must not forget the critters courtesy of Radagast. Eru spare me.

The letters have been sent out by falcon this morning over the mountains to Mirkwood, Lothlorien and Orthanc. I hope the birds run into a spot of bad weather or something. Twins been sent to Mithlond to escort Lord Cirdan. No word from Estel since that visit last fall. Fie, he should visit his Nana and Lord Elrond more often, and his Uncle Mel too, even if he is busy with Rangering. 

Methinks Lindir is trying to oust me as Chamberlain. I just caught him and Erestor drawing up the menu and rooms for the guests. Something about complaints from the last few meetings. Scratchy linens, draughty rooms and guests’ friends showing up in the dinner-stew. Oh, come on, that forest-style stew was cooked by Haldir and brothers. How would I know they added one of Radagast’s squirrels to it? Hm, Maybe I should advise Radagast to keep his squirrels away from Lady Galadriel.

After much insisting, Erestor finally relented and showed me the menu he had planned with Lindir. Seriously? Such rustic fare is not fit for our lord’s table. Replace the hunter’s stew with roast lamb in mint and swap the country cheese platter with smoked salmon canapés. We better factor in more wine knowing Thranduil. Had my ears boxed by Erestor once he calculated the cost of the revised menu. It’s way over his budget for the season. Too late to change now as Lindir has happily gone to inform the shepherds we wish to buy their plumpest lambs for roasting. I guess we will be dining on bread and soup for the rest of the year. 

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2953_

Dear Journal

First of the guests just strolled in this morning at breakfast, literally. Fin really should have a word with the guards – what if it were a troll or orc? Mithrandir simply waltzed in, plonked his behind on my lord’s favourite seat in the dining room and asked Elrond after his foster-son. Elrond quite pleased to announce that Estel is getting into the hang of Rangering. Ugh, Estel has grown out a full beard, taken to going unwashed for weeks and is on his way to becoming a tramp. If that is so, I would rather he not get into the business of Rangering to start with.

On the bright side, Halbarad is turning out to be less of a half-wit as his kin makes him out to be. Perhaps it is Estel’s influence rubbing off on him. Lady Gilraen does not seem to be too concerned about her son’s welfare so I guess Halbarad is more reliable than they say. Still, Mithrandir sounds a tad disappointed Estel was out. 

Second guest showed up at tea. Wish Saruman has not picked up that foul pipe-weed habit. At least he would not be quarrelling with Mithrandir over- Oh, terrific. They are debating about the merits of Old Toby versus Longbottom Leaf. There goes both the fresh air and quiet of Imladris.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2953_

Dear Journal

Lord Elrond’s in-laws and their escort showed up courtesy of Radagast’s rabbit-sled. Lady Galadriel in a bit of a snit about having requested to stylishly fly in on a Great Eagle and having Gwaihir blow her off, quite literally. One can only wonder about the power of the wind those mighty wings could generate. As an apology for sending her flying into a tree, Gwaihir presented the lady with a dead cat. Seriously, what do you expect her to do with that? On the upside, Lord Celeborn brought some of Lorien’s best vintages for Elrond’s tables. I will ensure the bottles make it safely to the cellar and the cat to the midden heap.

Got caught off-guard in the herb garden by Thranduil’s advance party, led by Prince Legolas. Had a slight misunderstanding which saw the Galadhrim engaging in a minor skirmish with the Mirkwood elves until they figured out they were all Elves and on the same side. I would have told you those leafy hats were a bad idea, Legolas. We definitely do not need another kinslay – what? Haldir, I did not scream like a wee elleth. I was practising my battle-cry. Haldir, Legolas, stop laughing.

Thranduil’s main escort is expected to arrive about dinner time and Legolas wants to make sure we have a stall for his adar’s elk. Come again? You brought that bad-tempered beast over the mountains? Also need accomodations for thirty – wait, that is three times the agreed upon number of escorts. Celeborn will not be pleased Elrond only allowed him to bring five guards tops.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2953_

Dear Journal

Lord Cirdan and his escort showed up stylishly late on the eve of the scheduled Council meeting at dinnertime. Twins sporting black-eyes and Galdor a bruised cheek. Cirdan laughing and saying how he had not had such fun brawling since the First Age. Elrond has received a bill for damages incurred from Butterbur. What did you lot do? Raze the _Prancing Pony_ to the ground? I can hear Erestor crying as he tries to balance the account books.

Gildor’s band linked up with the Mirkwood party earlier. Gildor kindly offered to escort Lord Cirdan on the return trip to Mithlond since they plan to spend their winter there. It would save the twins another trip. Lord Celeborn has uncorked his Dorwinion wine for the banquet - methinks the drinking party has started and that is my cue to leave before the twins start mooning the guests whilst singing naughty songs. 

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2953_

Dear Journal

Day of the Council meeting. Once more I am sitting in, or rather, baby-sitting the twins. Room stinks of pipe-weed from the Istari. Most of the attendees suffering from monster hangovers from last night’s Dorwinion. Lord Elrond had me brew up a large pot of hangover tea – the one that tastes like horse piss strained through a Ranger’s socks. Yuck. Lord Cirdan has fallen asleep in the middle of Saruman’s opening speech and is snoring so loud, one might think we have a Balrog in the room. Fin argues he sounds more like a warg-bitch in heat but I beg to differ. Radagast also sleeping… argh! Is that a viper coming out of his robe? Die, you scaly monster! _(stomps on poor reptile)_

Oh, it’s just a harmless grass snake. My bad. Let’s bury the poor critter and keep it quiet eh? Thankfully, Radagast has slept through the ruckus. I do not fancy being turned into a toad. A startled Lady Galadriel has leapt into Thranduil’s arms and the Elven-king is making full use of this rare chance to get acquainted with her curves. Celeborn not too amused but he is outnumbered by Thranduil’s guards here, even if he gets Gildor’s lot on his side. We had a near-riot in the common baths last night when the other elves found out the Mirkwood escorts had used up all the hot water. 

Rest of the meeting proceeded according to the agenda. Some talk about Mordor’s Shadow, report by Gildor and Mithrandir on things in the human settlements – blah, blah… Gloomy stuff. More arguing about riding out against the Dark Lord with the humans. Nixed again by Thranduil and Saruman. The Eldar have weakened too much over the years since the Last Alliance. To Legolas’ embarrassment no doubt, if it were to reach his ears, Thranduil suggested to Lord Elrond their offspring be wed. Lady Galadriel put her foot down hard by decrying Legolas Thranduilion as a brainless brat incapable of taking anything seriously, with accusations he was witnessed wrestling in the nude with certain border guards on the banks of the Anduin. Thranduil then tosses back some insults about Arwen and a certain young Ranger.

Meeting disintegrates into chaos as Galadriel and Thranduil get into a full-on fight. Elrond calling for calm but largely ignored. Gildor is siding with the Lady of Lorien and Galdor with Mirkwood. Both coming to blows and then out came the daggers. Erestor and Glrofindel trying to separate the two combatants. Celeborn sneaking up on Thranduil with a vase to knock him out but tripped over Mithrandir’s staff. Twins cheering everyone else on as Galadriel beats Thranduil over the head with a dead cat... Didn’t we bury that like two weeks ago?

Apologies, my lord. You can watch your own sons. I am out of here. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Legolas would be so embarrassed when the twins tell him of his father's attempt to get him married to Arwen.


	64. Farewell, Lady Gilraen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Gilraen departs from Rivendell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short little entry from the journal. Nothing much to be said here. If I don't watch it, this journal could turn into some epic-length fanfic.

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 2954_

Dear Journal

Today we bid a farewell to long-time resident of Imladris, Lady Gilraen. After languishing in widowhood for twenty cycles of the sun, she is ready to return to her people. We wish her all the best. Methinks it a pity she never had more kids before Arathorn II slipped off the mortal coil. Estel would have benefited from having human playmates. Elflings do not know their strength and how Estel could not match them in agility and stuff. How many times have we needed to fish him out of the river or patch him up after a fall off a tree? 

There are some rumours about her folks thinking of marrying her off to some other Ranger – one might think they would have learnt from the first round. Then again, she is still young enough to produce more children. But that is just that – idle rumours. Given the Dunedain's record when it comes to marriage, methinks she would likely remain a widow for life. It's not as though she has a young one she desperately needs a man around for him to call ada. Estel was calling my lordship his Ada for a good while and still does now. Lord Elrond is of half a mind to keep her in the valley as he thinks her grief not yet lifted. However, she is a grown woman and capable of making her own mind.

Gildor and his party will escort her back to her family’s farmstead as they make their way through Eriador. I think their merriment will help lift her spirits a bit. Gildor always had a touch for the damsels. A pity Estel was not in to bid farewell to his naneth, too busy hanging out with his new Ranger friends. Picked up some really foul habits like swilling that foul Dunedain beer and pipeweed-smoking from his mates, so the twins tell me. Ugh. Lord Elrond, do something before Estel ruins himself with his Mannish vices.

A little quiet about the house with the twins visiting their sister in Lothlorien. Perhaps that is a good thing as Gilraen tends to be awkward about the family. No long-drawn out farewells. She did thank Elrond for the care he had shown her over the years… Wait a moment, I was the one making sure she got her meals and clean linens on time. I even brought up the firewood in winter and brewed the special soothing tea late at night for you. How about some thanks for the poor ellon who actually did all the hard work heh?   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, the adventures of Thorongil?


	65. The Eagle of the Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In short the adventures of Thorongil as viewed from Figwit's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Estel drops out of touch and Figwit is concerned. Who is this Thorongil anyway?

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 2965_

Dear Journal

I am getting very concerned about Estel – we have not heard from him since the winter of T.A. 2955. Well, Mithrandir did inform Lord Elrond he met up with his fosterling in the wilds – somewhere in the High Pass or something. One might think Estel would have the consideration to write more often. I know that he is capable of writing, with an elegant hand too, unlike some of his forebears. I recall the first Chieftain Aranarth had writing comparable to chicken-scratches and Arahad I never took to his letters – losing a couple of fingers to wargs probably added to his disinterest.

Last week I met up with Halbarad after he and a couple of Dunedain dropped in on Lord Elrond, on the verge of death, as usual. They had an unfortunate mishap with some orcs, and orc-poisons are nasty things. Thankfully, they got here in time for my lord to keep most of them on their mortal coil. Halbarad told me that Estel took off on his own to Rohan some years back, without even informing his kinsman when he would be back. Youthful wanderlust, I suppose – the Noldorin princes had a bad case of it in the Valinor before the Sun and Moon and we all know how badly they ended up for most part. One does get worried, especially with the orcs, wargs and other creatures of Shadow about.

May Eru Iluvatar continue to protect the Heir of Isildur and his line.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Hrive, T.A. 2970_

Dear Journal

As yet no news from Estel. However, I have noticed missives from some Thorongil delivered to Lord Elrond via one grey-cloaked Istar. Well, I never heard of him and I know almost everyone Elrond corresponds with. I am not the only one raising eyebrows. Captain Fin sneaked a peek at some of the letters Elrond was writing and said it looked like he was writing to his son, except Elladan and Elrohir are currently grounded in Imladris for that prank involving Gildor Inglorion and poorly-thought tattoos. One might think Gildor would have had more sense than to agree to allow that pair to tattoo his back. Of course, Elladan might have just confused that love ballad with the contents page of a medical text. If Gildor does not wish to announce to his bed-partners he is infected with every known illness in Middle Earth, he could keep his shirt on while going about his business. Fact is both of Elrond’s sons are stuck mucking out the stables for the next ten years. 

I digress again. Back to this mysterious Thorongil – Fin is starting to wonder if those rumours about our lord having a baseborn offspring with some mortal woman have some truth to them. Apparently, Elrond was pleased to hear from Thorongil and commissioned Lindir to compose some heroic ballads – _The Eagle of the Star_ or something like that.

Erestor is of the opinion Estel had long fallen from Elrond’s good graces after the debacle with Arwen. Apparently, being Heir of Isildur is not good enough for our lady (and I agree with that) and Elrond would only wed Arwen to the king of both Gondor and Arnor. Seriously? Estel is the closest thing to king for the Dunedain. The kingdom of Arnor has not existed since sixteen generations of their people back. As to Gondor, the current Ruling Steward is already an old man. Of course he does have a son – a pompous jackass of a Man, so Lady Galadriel claims in her letter. She is still a tad sore about that intrusion into her Golden Wood by Denethor’s hunting party some years back. Seems Thorongil is hanging out in Minas Tirith with the Steward. One might think Lord Elrond is setting his heart on this Thorongil becoming king of both realms – Nah, that will invalidate the theories of Thorongil being Elrond’s son.

I guess the truth will be revealed in time. Erestor says we should not think too hard lest we damage our brains. Wait, did he just insinuate our thinking prowess is lacking? I would love to beat our advisor up but Fin has dragged him off to some dark cellar for a talking-to.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 2980_

Dear Journal

After a long, long while, we have heard news of Estel from Lorien. Arwen just announced via falcon that she and Estel are betrothed, and she has the Ring of Barahir on her finger as a token of his love. Let’s hope that’s the only love-token she is saddled with, knowing the carefree ways of the Silvans. Lord Elrond is not too thrilled. I guess it is a thing for all adars. I recall Lord Celeborn voicing his objections to his daughter’s pursuit of Elrond only to have them shut down by his wife.

I seriously doubt we will be having a wedding as Elrond is sticking to his King of Gondor and Arnor requirement for a son-in-law. Met up with Mithrandir and asked him about this strange Thorongil chap. The Istar just laughed and told me that Thorongil has gone into the legends of Gondor and Rohan. Eru, with all the ballads Lindir has been working on at Arwen’s and Elrond’s behest about this hero, and those Westron ones Gildor brought in from Gondor… If they are fact, I must take it that this Thorongil single-handedly crushed the Corsair threat to Gondor and held the eastern flank of Rohan against the denizens of Mordor.

I am still clueless about this Thorongil hero but at least Estel has popped up after all this while. He promised to drop by to visit us after tying up some loose ends with the Rangers and dropping in on his Nana. I guess he will be in before winter, hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Figwit is still clueless about Thorongil’s identity. One might think he would have figured it out by now. Elrond was kept informed by Gandalf and despite his misgivings about marrying his daughter to his fosterling, he is proud of Estel’s achievements in Rohan and Gondor.


	66. Return of the Hobbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo comes to stay in Rivendell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly moving towards the events of LOTR.

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 3001_

Dear Journal

We have a new guest in Imladris for me to crack my head over. Mister Bilbo Baggins is coming to stay with us – on a permanent basis. Understand this is at the behest of one meddling Mithrandir. Has he any idea how much a Hobbit can eat? I suppose not. I will have to ensure that our larders and pantries are well-stocked to get through winter. Elrond is unlikely to use his powers to give us a bumper harvest in the middle of winter and we don’t want to run out before spring. If we do, guess who is the lucky elf who always gets dispatched to Bree to purchase supplies.

It was not that bad when Mister Baggins dropped by to visit Lord Elrond for a week or so in the past. Lord Elrond could use the company, especially when Glorfindel and the twins are away with the Dunedain. Arwen is not due to complete her latest studies under her grandmother yet. Bilbo is quite a decent, well-mannered chap, really. I don’t know where all those rumours about him being a burglar came about. None of the silverware has gone missing from Imladris after his visits. However, he does look less spry than I recalled from our first meeting back then. The travails of mortals I suppose. On account of his stiff joints, Elrond has assigned him a room on the ground floor, near the Hall of Fire.

On the upside, he is getting along nicely with Lindir for his love of Elvish music. Home recipes from the Shire add another layer of flavour to the dining tables. The mushroom and potato stew was delicious and the spiced cakes a real treat. The cook is quite keen to try out the apple-cinnamon crumble recipe she got from Mister Baggins. I doubt the practice of afternoon tea would catch on with us elves – it seems too indulgent to have a fourth meal each day.

Seriously hope Bilbo will drop that nasty pipeweed habit. It will never do for the Hall of Fire to reek like an unswept hearth.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 3007_

Dear Journal

We have just received sad news from Halbarad. Lady Gilraen has passed beyond the circles of Arda. At least she did have her son drop in for a visit in her last summer. Bit of a shock for everyone - at 100 she is not that old for a Dunedain. No clue where her son took off to afterwards. Think Mithrandir has some mission for Estel which has been keeping him on the wrong side of the Misty Mountains - and far too close to Mordor - in the recent years. Pray Eru takes care of that Adan and protects him from the ill-conceived schemes of one Mithrandir. 

Estel did let slip he was hunting for something the last time he dropped by Rivendell. Spent some time chatting with Bilbo with regards to his past adventures in one Goblin-town under the mountains. I would have learnt more had Erestor not come storming over demanding I explain the inconsistencies in the household accounts. There were no inconsistencies, I assure you - one Hobbit consumes about as much in a month as a dozen elves over a year. Deal with it, Erestor - we cannot let our guest starve under Lord Elrond's roof. I hate audits, don't you?    


	67. Hunt for Gollum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Estel finally gets some success capturing Gollum.

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 3009_

Dear Journal

It is a wonderful day – Lady Arwen has returned to the valley. Now Estel can spout his maudlin poetry at her instead of at long-suffering Uncle Mel when he drops in. Methinks it was the news from Lord Celeborn about the latest orc incursion that finally convinced Lord Elrond to send for his daughter. Arwen is still having a bit of a snit about not being able to get hitched to Estel so long as he is tramping about with Mithrandir. My lady, your adar only wants the best for you and a ranger, even if he is Chieftain, falls way short of being worthy of your hand.

Oh, by the way, Estel is still trudging about the shores of the Anduin or somewhere thereabouts courtesy of Mithrandir. Seriously, methinks that is why Arwen was called home to Imladris. Having the lovebirds on the same side of the mountains must be giving Elrond sleepless nights, with Lady Galadriel’s very liberal approach towards matters of the heart and bedroom. We blame this on her hanging out too much with one Maia-queen in Doriath during the First Age.

Bilbo is getting along fine with the lady, even if he has the unfortunate tendency to doze off mid-conversation. Age, Lord Elrond supposes. At 119, he is not a young hobbit. Must be careful he does not accidentally set his blankets on fire with his pipe. His appetite is still hearty though – he has yet to miss a meal. According to Lindir, his mind is still sharp enough to write his memoirs and compose one silly ballad – _Earendil was a Mariner._ I think that song needs more work. My Westron is not that terrific, perhaps Estel could drop him some pointers the next time he comes to Imladris.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Laire, T.A. 3017_

Dear Journal

Estel is finally home after so many years roughing it in the wilds. He has a great tale to tell about capturing some nasty beast which has eluded both him and Mithrandir the Wise for years. He should at least take a nice long bath before coming into the Hall of Fire. And fie, have you forgotten what a comb is for? Still, Arwen is entranced by the telling despite Estel's tramp-ish looks and Elrond looking decidedly nervous. I know the minute his back is turned those two would be cooing sweet nothings to each other by moonlight like a pair of turtledoves. Lindir is working on a heroic ballad about the hunt complete with monster leeches and what – hope he does not turn this Gollum critter into a Balrog or Glorfindel might be a tad offended, as in stringing our bard up by his bootlaces offended. Our Balrog-slayer has his pride you know.

I seriously question the wisdom of leaving this Gollum with Thranduil. Didn’t the woodland king lose 13 dwarves and one hobbit from his dungeons some years back? Hope they have beefed up their security since that great escape. Sadly, Estel will not be tarrying long here. Some message from Mithrandir concerning business over at the Shire. I sincerely hope it is not fetching some more hobbits to Imladris to eat us out of house and home.

Twins agreed to give Estel some private time with his fiancée, by pranking the heck out of everyone else so that Elrond is flooded with complaints from the Imladhrim about his sons’ antics. I would say Glorfindel looks very fetching with green hair. Lindir has his lute glued to his hands… Uncle Mel is most certainly not amused to find his bunny slippers filled with slugs! Hope you two like shovelling horse poo for the rest of your immortal lives! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to leave the arrival of the various attendees of the Council of Elrond for the next installment.


	68. Arrival of Guests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The attendees of Elrond's Council start arriving in Imladris, much to Figwit's dismay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mixed the Jackson movie and book canon for the battle at the Ford. Of course, Figwit is clueless about the Ringwraiths being so close to Imladris, or he would have totally freaked out.

_Imladris, Quelle T.A. 3018_

Dear Journal

Woe is me! Why in the name of Iluvatar have all Elrond’s magical wards on our vale failed so utterly? Awoke to a band of dwarves pottering about my herb garden. Which foolish elf let them in there? Lindir! Was it you again? I recognized one of them from some time ago – Gobbin or Gloin, I think his name was. Sure, he looks older now with more grey in his beard but he is still a stinky dwarf. No, you are not going to bathe in the fountain again, not with Lady Arwen about. Fie, I should have guessed the twins had something to do with it. They are up to some mischief, possibly planning to get one of the younger dwarves drunk enough to be tossed. 

Seems the dwarves have some very important message from both King Dain II of Erebor and King Brand of Dale which they would not share with a mere servant elf – Hey! I am not just any servant elf. No, you were the only other Dwarves to pass this way since Mithrandir dumped Thorin and company on us. Old Mister Bilbo glad to see an old friend though. Never saw what Bilbo saw in Thorin and pals.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Quelle T.A. 3018_

Dear Journal

Just when I have persuaded the dwarves to use the horse baths behind the old stables instead of the fountain for their ablutions, Glorfindel announced the arrival of a mortal from Gondor. Seems the uppity prig is one Boromir, son of the current Steward. You are only the Ruling Steward’s son, not a prince. Don’t expect me to roll out the royal treatment. Lady Arwen is trying her best to be a gracious hostess – hey, watch where your eyes are looking, knave! How long do you intend to hold her hand by the way? Even the dwarves know better... Can’t we just chuck him in the Bruinen, Fin? Even with his tidings of some prophetic dream – I’m sure it’s not his. Methinks he lacks the subtlety for that kind of stuff.   

Hope Boromir quits ogling Arwen soon or Estel will definitely knock his block off when he gets back from Mithrandir’s errand. That will be a diplomatic nightmare. Our captain has kindly offered to take our lusty guest’s mind off our fair lady by means of a couple of rounds in the training yard. Go easy on him, Fin. You know how fragile mortals are, especially the non-Dunedain variety.

Lord Elrond is ringing for more of that special tea for headaches. Twins caused some outrage among our dwarvish guests by getting the youngest member of their party drunk and naked, dipping him in honey and tossing him against a tree to see if he would stick. What a waste of good honey. More ruffled beards to be smoothed over. And since poor Gimli landed in some nettles, Elrond has tasked me with rubbing his hairy ass down with a dock-leaf poultice to treat his blisters. Why me?

* * *

 

_Imladris, Quelle T.A. 3018_

Dear Journal

Mithrandir the Meddler dropped by, riding a steed from the King of Rohan which had even Glorfindel envious. Hope it was a gift as we know how attached those folk are to their horses. Elrond would not be amused if the next visitors to Imladris are a troop of angry horsemen. Thankfully, he did not stay too long – just long enough to hold one of his secret meetings with Lord Elrond before riding off. I would have attended to Lord Elrond in Erestor’s stead, if Bilbo had not insisted I stay for a cuppa and scones in his room. I guess it was more of his usual gloomy talk about the Shadow – Elrond had me brew up a pot of soothing tea for him afterwards, and his study was flooded with scent of athelas.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Quelle T.A. 3018_

Dear Journal

Galdor trotted in on his little pony late last night, roaring drunk after dallying in the infamous _Prancing Pony._ Erestor was there to greet him and got puked on for his trouble. Better you than me. Seems Lord Cirdan is feeling his age and decided to send his deputy in his stead to attend Elrond’s Council meeting. Seriously, milord, how am I to take care of your guests if you keep forgetting to tell me about them? Mithrandir trotted in too, in the wee hours of the morning. What are we to you? Some post-inn you can just drop in any time of the day or night, like the one in Bree? Decent elves need their reverie you know.

We had a surprise visit from Prince Legolas this morning. He put paid to Boromir’s hassling Arwen by means of a few words and well-placed arrows– now that is true royalty for you. I hope you keep your word about leaving Lady Arwen alone, or your sire better have another son waiting in Gondor to carry on the family name.

It is so good to have Prince Legolas about. Which fair wind brought him to Imladris, I may ask – Ai, ai! That is an ill wind indeed. You lost the prisoner Gollum? The same one Estel entrusted to your fine Mirkwood dungeons? The one you promised him you Mirkwood guards would keep secured at all times? The one Estel spent the better part of a decade hunting down, fighting off monster leeches, orcs and other nasties to capture? Legolas, you promise-breaking knave! Warg in elf’s clothing! I will not be the one breaking the news to Estel for sure.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Quelle T.A. 3018_

Dear Journal

We are doomed. Lady Arwen took off alone to the Ford of Bruinen for some quiet-time yesterday, with her sword. Concerned about her safety, Glorfindel went after her. We have far too many dwarves and mortals about Imladris these days, you know. There came a big flood down the Brunien - more Mithrandir's meddling I wager - Elrond would never willfully risk a flood downstream. The pair returned with Estel and not one but four hobbits! Elrond and Mithrandir did seem to be expecting them though. Why are these rude Hobbits calling Estel Strider? That is such a coarse name.  

Seems they are all relations of Bilbo's. What’s this? Some great hobbit family reunion? Please tell me they do not intend to stay too long. Well, one of them looked really ill. Lord Elrond was shouting out orders to the healers and giving the laggards a kick or two to get them moving – something he is not known for unless in really dire circumstances, like when High King Gil-galad got roasted to a crisp during the Last Alliance. Not that it helped much. Glorfindel is getting dragged into the healing wards by his hair – seems they need his Light of Valinor to heal Bilbo’s nephew. Could it be a morgul wound? I really do not like this at all.

The twins and I had to break up fisticuffs between Estel and Legolas. Someone just learnt about the prisoner’s escape and the prince does not take kindly to his adar being called a wine-sodden sponge. No, milady, it would not be diplomatic to put arrows in the prince’s back even if he is threatening to wring your beloved’s neck like a chicken’s. No kinslayings allowed in Imladris, you know, and Thranduil is a kinsman on your grandfather Celeborn’s side of the family tree – the branch with all the nuts. Hope Estel and Legolas patch things up or it could get awkward.

After hearing that cur Boromir boasting about his Adar’s glorious court at Minas Tirith, poor Estel is starting to feel like some country bumpkin. Cheer up, Estel, don’t let some windbag get you down – there is more to life than fancy robes and titles you know, take it from an old elf. Those things aren’t going to be much use against an orc attack, right? You are the Heir of Isildur after all. It’s your birthright. I bet the Gondorians will think you some hero – Thorongil, remember? That unknown yokel from Rohan who made captain - Hey, you aren’t going to let all Elrond’s hopes on you down by disappearing into the wilds of Eriador, are you? What about your Lady Arwen?

Once more, I sense Doom approaching us in Imladris…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figwit is getting rather tired of Gandalf's antics. Poor Gimli and the twins were being childish again. I rather like the movie's touch of having Aragorn show some self-doubt at this point as it makes him more human. Legolas and Aragorn will work out their differences eventually at the Council.


	69. The Council of Elrond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elrond holds council. Decisions are made and the Fellowship leaves Imladris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Council of Elrond and the departure of the Fellowship from Imladris as seen by Figwit.

_Imladris, Quelle T.A. 3018_

Dear Journal

Arda is Doomed. Seriously as in Doomed-type Doomed. My lord Elrond has utterlytaken leave of his senses to allow a Halfling to take the Ring (yes, that Ring) to Mount Doom (yes, that fire-spewing pit in Mordor’s black heart). We might as well as throw open the gates and invite Sauron himself in for tea. Perhaps he was still reeling from what Mithrandir did to all of us.

My ears, my poor ears… Never in all her long years has the peace of our valley been so defiled. Believe me, the trees here are leery of Westron and the Mannish tongues but to use the speech of orcs… don’t be too surprised if Lady Celebrian’s beloved orange trees shrivel up and die. Lindir was physically sick in the hallway you know, after happening to overhear those accursed words.

Gimli did cause a few chuckles, even from old sourpuss Erestor, when he tried to smite the Ring. Those silly dwarves. Nice try but not using the noggin there for sure. If even Mithrandir’s magic could not unmake it, what more a crude axe?

Prince Legolas would be a better bet for the task –after all it's his fault Gollum is no longer rotting in a Mirkwood dungeon. Let him have a chance to redeem the honour of his people I say. Mithrandir can tag along too with his wizardly powers. I cannot say I approve of Estel volunteering to aid Mister Frodo in his task. Much too risky and Estel lacks the natural hardiness of an elf. Hate to admit but his blood is mostly Mannish by now. Perhaps the dwarf and Lord Boromir could provide a distraction for any orcs. A tad disappointed that Glorfindel has chosen to take the heed of the no-interfering policy this round. Claims his skills will be required in the near future. Lord Elrond grounded the twins earlier for pranking the dwarves so they are stuck mucking out the stables until spring. Pity. Estel could use their help on this venture.

I am stopping here as I need to see that their rations for the journey are ready. I feel sorry for the poor pony if he is going to carry rations for all four hobbits. Estel, come give your Uncle Mel a hug, will you? After bidding your goodbyes to Elrond and Arwen of course. Oh, and don’t let that Boromir chap push you around. I don’t trust him any further than one could toss a dwarf. Wish Elrond would see some sense and reforge the Shards of Narsil into a spanking new blade for Isildur’s Heir as advised by Arwen and Mithrandir. That would really put Boromir in his place.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Quelle T.A. 3018_

Dear Journal

This morning we bade farewell to the Fellowship of the Ring. Boromir making a horrid racket with that silly horn of his as they depart. Pity Legolas did not see fit to grab it from him and break it over his knee and thus spare our aching ears. Bilbo not too keen on his nephew leaving Elrond’s care given his morgul wound. Those things are nasty and notoriously hard to heal. Gloin reminding his son to keep an ear out for news on their missing kin. I suppose those missing dwarves might have just gotten lost somewhere. Perhaps they hit a lode of mithril, settled down with the locals and simply forgot to write home.

By Eru, the whole mission is a farce from the start! There is no way our fellowship is going to march to Mordor and knock on its gates and say, “Excuse me, we have this Ring we need to unmake in the fires of Mount Doom. Mind letting us pass?” I doubt the Dark Lord would be so welcoming. We would have better luck taking our chances with building a giant catapult and flinging the Ring over the mountains, hoping it would land in Mount Doom's crack without the Dark Lord catching on. 

Perhaps that is why Elrond is discussing plans for a mass evacuation of the valley’s population to Mithlond with Galdor as I write? Lord Elrond, is our time in sweet Imladris at an end?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Given that the Black Speech was said to be physically painful to the elves, I picture the elven attendees being very uncomfortable at the council when Mithrandir used it to read the inscription. I think Figwit will be sort of stunned by the decision to leave the Destruction of the Ring to the Hobbits.


	70. Last Stand of Imladris?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> War is brewing on east of the Misty Mountains and the peace of Imladris is not spared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Ring War is in full swing now. Elrond is regretting not reforging that sword sooner.

_Imladris, Hrive T.A. 3018_

Dear Journal

We are packing for a long trek to Mithlond. Ellyth and elflings first of course. Glorfindel is starting to show some of his old fire by insisting all able-bodied ellyn prepare for a springtime offensive over the Misty Mountains. Excuse me but methinks both the Lady Galadriel and King Thranduil would not be too thrilled if we are to march on their turf unannounced. We don’t even have his prince on hand to smooth things over – I mean, how can we tell him just allowed his only son to run off on suicide mission in the direction of Mordor?

Lady Arwen had a spat with her adar over Estel and is holed up in her chambers while her brothers try to patch things up. Why are you two raiding the seamstress’ stores? This is no time for embroidery. Well, I suppose since our seamstress has upped for Mithlond last week with that Galdor, I doubt she will need her stuff anymore.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Hrive T.A. 3018_

Dear Journal

Ill news reached us on this morning. Mithrandir the Meddler is no more. Lord Elrond received word from Lady Galadriel via falcon after she saw off the remaining members of the Fellowship. Somehow the Fellowship took the route through abandoned Moria (never a good idea) and ran into a Balrog. He should have known better to do heroics at his age… Holy Manwe! You mean there are living Balrogs in Middle Earth still? We are Doomed… I suppose the next bit of news from Lothlorien will be a Balrog army marching on us.

Hey Glorfindel! Here’s your chance to relive your Gondolin Balrog-slaying glory days!

* * *

 

_Imladris, Coire T.A. 3018_

Dear Journal

Elrond having second thoughts now about the Shards of Narsil. We are going about looking for competent Elf-smiths to fix it for Estel’s use. He has received news from Mithrandir – clearly Istari are like roaches. Even a Balrog cannot squish them. The Fellowship is no more. The Ringbearer has gone missing after an orc-attack (along with some assorted hobbits) and Estel is hanging with the Riders of Rohan. Gah! This is no time to hang out with old friends from your Thorongil days over a pint or two. There is a Dark Lord threatening Imladris – and the rest of Arda for the love of Eru!

Hey, did anyone see our Balrog-slaying captain? Or the twins? What do you mean they went to join the Dunedain on a campaign in the east? Wait, Elrond, I am to take Lady Arwen to Mithlond and put her on the next ship out? You know she never listens to Uncle Mel! Oh, the alternative is riding out after the twins and bringing them home to manage Imladris while you go out looking for an elf-smith? I think I’d take my chances with Lady Arwen then. There is a place for me on that Valinor-bound ship, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In book-verse, Arwen has a special gift delivered to her beloved through her brothers and Halbarad.


	71. That Darn Sword

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is following the movie-verse about Arwen and that sword.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arwen refuses to sail. Elrond makes a special delivery.

_Imladris, Tuile T.A. 3019_

Dear Journal

I wish I am already on the road to Mithlond, or better yet on one of Lord Cirdan’s ships heading for Aman. Fair Arwen threw the mother of all temper tantrums and refused to leave for the Havens. Elrond said I am not to go until she does. Then she suddenly announces to us all she will be choosing the Path of Men before promptly taking to her bed with a fever. Seriously, could you not wait until this entire war is over before making the Choice and falling ill in the Mannish way? Lord Elrond has whipped up a batch of willow-bark tea which we are to give her a spoonful of every six hours with some light broth until her fever breaks.

Lord Elrond has found his sword-smith in Erestor, an elf of many hidden talents apparently. But Erestor says he is too refined for such smith-work now. Hence he suggested the services of two of Gildor’s band who were his forge assistants back in the First Age. Of course the pair had not hammered out anything more than horseshoes since the Second Age. Lord Elrond has left me to care for his little girl while he hastens over to hand that flipping sword to Estel.

I just hope the entire thing does not fall apart the minute Estel yanks it out of its scabbard against the Dark Lord or his minions. Seeing as Erestor probably supervised from a comfy chair while nibbling on salmon canapes while the young ones sweated it out over the anvil. Jerk. I guess it beats inviting a dwarf-smith into Imladris. Arwen is burning up and I need to get a fresh towel… hang in there for Uncle Mel and your Ada, little evenstar. 

Someone send for more of that special calming herbal tea from the healing halls? All her muttering about little boys is starting to disturb me. Please spare me, Eru. I am done with babysitting! Wait, Erestor, why are you wearing armour instead of your formal advisor robes?

Oh, I see… Lord Elrond has galloped off with that ring of his and our valley is currently unprotected save for a half-dozen guards and you need to take your turn on patrol… Holy Manwe! Lord Elrond, how could you abandon us like this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think after Glorfindel left with the twins to meet with the Rangers of the North and Elrond left to make that very important delivery, the valley will be a little short of protection. 
> 
> Figwit is unable to comment on the Ring War for now as he is stuck in Imladris until after the war ends.


	72. A New Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Shadow is defeated and wedding bells are in the air for some.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wedding preparations are in the air.

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 3019_

Dear Journal

Something has changed. I do not know what exactly. The feeling of unease and looming Doom has lifted from the hearts of the remaining elves in Imladris. Yet we feel something has gone from the valley. Don’t get me wrong, it is still a fair place but it lacks a little what some may call elvish magic. Seems almost blah now.

Arwen’s fever has broken and she is well enough to sit at the window waiting for her adar’s return while working on a new gown. I must make sure she doesn’t go catch a cold now that she is mortal. Erestor has dispatched a message by falcon to Lord Celeborn to inquire on the state of affairs across the mountains. Everyone on tenterhooks even though we actually feel hopeful, yet sad too. Well, the meals aren’t going to cook themselves. I must go make sure the kitchen maids are not skiving now the cook has sailed. I will cook up some chicken dumpling soup for our little evenstar.

* * *

 

_Imladris, Tuile, T.A. 3019_

Dear Journal

Our lord has returned to Imladris with great news. The Shadow has been driven back for good and Estel has earned his birth-right as the King of Gondor and Arnor. Which means Elrond has given his blessings to the marriage of his little girl and his foster son… Wait, do I foresee a wedding in Imladris? Argh! We don’t have enough elves or time to make it one grand enough for Arwen and a king! Who will be on the guest-list? Is there time to bake a fancy wedding cake? What will we do for the wedding garments?

Oh, the wedding is going to be in Minas Tirith where Estel will be crowned. We just need to pack for the journey there… Lord Elrond, is that wise to leave the wedding planning to the Gondorians? Wait, does this mean we have to travel to Minas Tirith for the wedding? I don’t want to travel…

Lady Arwen is positively blooming now and raring to go to her bridegroom. Erestor had to stop her from taking off alone without a suitable entourage in a very unlady-like manner. Hope she learns to curb her more tomboyish streak as sword-fighting and tree-climbing are not pastimes befitting a queen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The power of the 3 Elven rings are lost with the destruction of the One Ring. So Rivendell is back to being a normal valley, likewise Galadriel's Lothlorien is no longer that magical elven realm now.


	73. The Road to Gondor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The elves of Rivendell travel to Gondor for the wedding of Aragorn and Arwen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me a while to think of a logical route they would have taken. I was considering the Gap of Rohan and the High Pass. I was thinking of having Elrond getting ragged by Thranduil over losing his little girl to a Man, but I settled for Galadriel throwing one last wild party instead.

_Hollin, Tuile, T.A. 3019_

Dear Journal 

We have been dragged from our haven of Imladris as part of Lady Arwen’s entourage. Seriously, my lord, I am not a good rider, but you need not have me riding in front of Erestor like some elfling. Why, even Lindir gets to ride his own pony. We are spending the night in Hollin, the ruins of Eregion. Loads of memories of the past. I keep expecting Celebrimbor to be batting about the ruins with his Dwarvish friends. Seriously, one would think he was a dwarf instead of an elf given his bloody stubbornness. I think he might take holding Eregion literally and linger on instead of hightailing it to Mandos like your average elf. Who’s that off in the shadows of that wall? Not a ghost, I hope… 

Oh, it’s just Elrond is having a private conversation with his daughter. And Erestor has me tied to a column – I do not eavesdrop, I say!

* * *

 

 _Caradhras, Tuile, T.A. 3019_  

Whose bright idea was it to cross the pass so early in spring? I know elves can run on the surface of snow but that is on the condition they are not laden down with loads of wedding gifts like me. Quit laughing, Lindir! I would not be so frozen if you had dug me out quickly enough… I don’t see why we have to move Arwen’s entire wardrobe to Gondor… I mean, she would have an entire new wardrobe as a queen, right? Thankfully, Erestor ‘lost’ those ugly Numenorean-style chairs down a crevasse… 

Oh, there is an alternative route? Where is it? Why don’t we take it – oh, it is via Moria and is infested with hundreds of orcs… Hm, a bit of snow never hurt anyone…

* * *

 

 _Lothlorien, Laire, T.A. 3019_  

I wish we could stop for longer in Lothlorien but Lady Galadriel is raring to go see her granddaughter get married. What the Lady of Lothlorien wants, she gets. So we only get one night of rest here – and Haldir and his mates are keeping me awake with raucous drinking songs… Better tell them to tone it down. Oh, and someone tell Orophin to get back into his clothes. There are ellyth about…

Ai, Arwen! What are you doing singing bawdry songs and swilling Dorwinion wine with the Galadhrim? My lady, for shame! A stag party? Er, Haldir, I think the Mannish practice of a stag party is meant for the groom, not the bride… Ooh, the Lord and Lady will have you flogged to ribbons for this one… Ai, why is Lady Galadriel kissing Orophin? I am not seeing this… Lord Elrond! Oh, of course… I will go fetch you some tea for headaches. I think I might need some myself…

* * *

 

 _Minas Tirith, Laire, T.A. 3019, Midsummer’s Eve_  

Dear Journal 

We have arrived in the capital of Gondor after nearly a month of travel via Lorien. Lady Arwen is looking much better after a week of being hung over and recovering in Lorien – Dorwinion will do that to anyone not used to it. She will make a lovely bride, especially in that gown her grandmother prepared for her. The city is passable enough methinks, for our Lady Arwen to live in. They did do a good job trying to patch up the holes in the walls and scrubbing out the soot and stuff. The House of the Kings seemed to be a little charred… Heavy smoky smell under the incense when we passed nearby.

Lady Galadriel is giving the steward hell over the condition of the marital chamber. Doesn’t that Faramir kid know we need the proper flowers in the room for the couple? And get rid of that ugly stag’s head. That will be a big mood-killer. Oh, he’s Boromir’s little brother? Somehow I am not too surprised. At least he is the brighter one of the pair, so Mithrandir claims. Turned out he has been trying to educate the pair of them since they were little boys for the return of the King… Lord Manwe, you mean you knew all the time Estel would be victorious? 

Estel has also added a new name to his impressive list of them – Elessar Telcontar. Well, at least it sounds more dignified than Strider or Wingfoot – why is that Eomer from Rohan calling you that? Er, you do know your sister and Faramir are snogging in the second hallway to the throne room, right? I saw a really embarrassed Elrond pass that way after he was done presenting the Sceptre of Annuminas to his soon-to-be law-son. Those special blooms for fertility Galadriel insisted on decorating the nuptial chambers with are a little too effective. 

The food tastes weird here in Gondor – too salty and spicy. It’s as if the meat isn’t that fresh. The wine is too harsh and the rooms are too warm and stuffy… And someone seriously needs to do something about that stench coming from – oh, that is from the dead orcs being burned… It’s been two months since the war ended and there are still orcs about? Are we safe here? Oh, Glorfindel and the twins are just back from an orc-hunt. They are adamant no orc is going to ruin their sister’s wedding.

Of the White Tree, we have a wee sapling. Not very impressive but it will grow I guess. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Given that the Ring War ended in spring there would be some deprivations in terms of food and the overall condition of the city. BTW, I am not going with the movie-version which suggests Haldir died at Helm’s Deep.


	74. The Big Fat Gondorian Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elessar and Arwen get married and everyone parties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil is displeased. Elrond is sad. Galadriel and Celeborn steal the show in their own way.

_Minas Tirith, Laire, T.A. 3019, Midsummer’s Day_

Dear Journal

We have just witnessed the union of Estel and Awen. There is much joy and merry-making in the streets of the city. My Lord Elrond is much overwrought with emotion at this joining of the Elvish line of Earendil to the Mannish line through his brother Elros Tar-Minyatar.  He has taken himself off to his rooms with Glorfindel, methinks he needs a strong shoulder to cry on. In Celebrian's absence, his Captain's shoulder will suffice. I can tell he feels the loss of his daughter more keenly than he would have us believe. I have sent up some supper for them should they be inclined not to join the party.

With nightfall and the celebrations in full swing, Erestor and I have secured seats in the upper gallery from which we may observe the antics of the Gondorians and other party guests. The Mirkwood elves are little miffed at him after he ruled in the Galadhrim’s favour during a friendly round of tug-of-war this afternoon. I understand he is not keen to find himself on the business end of those infamous Mirkwood arrows. Did Haldir bribe you with his Lorien home-wine? I was sure the Mirkwood elves won when the Galadhrim ended up in the mud. 

Lady Galadriel and her lord are making quite freely with their cache of Dorwinian. The couple is drawing a fair bit of attention with their daring (and drunken) dance moves – they call it the ‘tango’ but methinks it should be called the ‘tangle’ the scandalous way their limbs are all over each other. My, Galadriel sure is flexible at her age. Sulky King Thranduil is none too pleased his son’s best friend for life is a Dwarf and is drowning his sorrows in a corner while his wayward heir competes in a friendly game of darts with the Dwarf against Elrond’s twins.

Lindir is drawing quite a bit of attention for his music from both ellyth and Mannish maidens (and a few matrons). Poor ellon is quite overwhelmed. What’s with the tossing flowers anyways? Don’t they ever get tired of the _Lay of Leithian_? Mithrandir has set up a fine display of fireworks to the delight of the children (and a few Hobbits). At least he finally got round to washing his clothes or getting a new white robe. Quite a fine display indeed - almost a pity Mister Bilbo was unable to make the journey here due to his infirmity. He would have loved the fireworks, especially the dragon. 

Estel and Arwen are both acting with the dignity and decorum required of the King and Queen of the Reunified Kingdoms. I think they might be a wee bit bored out of their minds. Estel is making some Dunedain sign language to us to get him out of this mess. Erestor is giving him a firm rebuke to hang in there until the official part of the celebration ends. He follows up with some obscure hand-signs which have both Estel and Arwen blushing. He informs me they were a few suggestions about what the happy couple could do together afterwards.

I also note some interesting happenings among the nobles at the high table – like Prince Imrahil’s little sister making lovey-dovey eyes at the newly-crowned King Eomer of Rohan. Her brother is looking a bit strained but is gracious enough not to kick up a fuss. Lady Eowyn and the King’s Steward Faramir seem to be almost in each other’s lap as they feed each other fresh oysters from the coast… I hope those shellfish are fresh, or we might be witnessing the first signs of hallucinatory shellfish poisoning. Lord Celeborn had a bad case once in Eregion and ended up sharing a pen with a pig. Estel has kindly granted his Steward the lands of Ithilien and a title so I guess he would be worthy of the hand of a king’s sister. Prince of Ithilien does have a nice ring to it. King Eomer does seem to be very keen to have his sister wedded off to the prince seeing he actually switched seats so his sister ended up next to Faramir. I would have preferred Imrahil for his more elvish looks but he might already be married at his age.

Mithrandir earlier mentioned something about the Coming of the Age of Man and the fading of the elves. Methinks Lord Elrond will soon sail for Valinor. I beseech the All-Father not to leave me to care for the twins when my lord sails.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Figwit is oblivious to the significance that Gandalf the Grey actually died and came back as Gandalf the White.


	75. The Homeward Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Figwit and the elves of Imladris return home. Figwit gets culture shock when the party sojourns at Edoras. He does not believe in Ents too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be last or second last where the elves sail. The elves have no part in the scouring of the Shire.

_Minas Tirith, Laire, T.A. 3019_

Dear Journal

Things have changes drastically – with new kings crowned and stuff after the Shadow is driven back for good (one can only hope). Mirkwood has been renamed Greenwood or Eryn Lasgalen with Thranduil’s reclaiming of his ancestral seat of Amon Lac, formerly known as Dol Guldur. Too bad he ran into Lord Celeborn’s fierce objections when he tried to add the lands below the Narrows to his realm. Legolas is throwing his support behind Lord Celeborn instead of his father. I sense someone is ready to break out from under his ada’s thumb – first with the dwarf and now talk about starting an elven colony in Ithilien. For starters, he is going out exploring with his best buddy dwarf. Methinks this little rebellion was long overdue.

To avoid being dragged into this territorial squabble, Lord Elrond is strongly encouraged by Erestor to quit Gondor before Galadriel recovers from the weariness of the journey (or the mother of hangovers) and demands he put his wisdom to the situation. Also, it is getting a little tiring for us to be keeping the many obliging maidens of Gondor away from the twins.

Oh, just heard the hobbits will be traveling with us as far as Imladris. We will need extra ponies for their rations then. I don’t suppose Estel could get folks along the way to feed his company, right? The sight of our hobbits might make them think twice… Oh, King Eomer has kindly agreed to give us bed and board at his hall in Edoras – wait, why are we taking a detour to Rohan? Hey, you mean you want us to travel with you as part of the funerary procession? Can’t you just leave your uncle in Gondor or something? I am sure he would not mind.

Glorfindel just whacked me on the head and informed it was the Rohirrim way to bury their kings in a hill near their great hall. Well, I guess a detour would not hurt anyone, especially if we have a funeral feast and warm beds at the end.

* * *

 

_Edoras, Yavie, T.A. 3019_

Dear Journal

Never have we so regretted a journey. Our mattresses are filled with pokey and likely mouldy straw. The thatched roof is full of holes – Legolas declared he could espy Gil Estel through it and Galadriel immediately demanded they swop rooms. Not very sure why she has Celeborn holding that water bucket. The Rohirrim menu is highly limited – roasted meat, burnt meat and spicy meat. I like mutton but not when it is served breakfast, lunch and dinner. And what is it with that maggoty sour cheese on brick-bread? Erestor spotted Haldir and brothers being sent out to gather some water cress by Lady Galadriel earlier.

Lord Elrond is putting a brave front on it as he has Erestor record the ways of the Rohirrim. Lindir is happy so long as there are other bards he would mingle with. Seems in his world of music, speaking the same language is optional. Glorfindel and the twins are really enjoying themselves with the dancing at the funeral feast. Once the dirges are sung and old Theoden buried alongside his ancestors, the partying could start, and continue for the next three nights or so, much to the delight of the Galadhrim. Hobbits are really into this partying thing, except for poor Frodo (who is not yet quite up to it) and his nursemaid Sam.

Oh, heard that there is going to be the official betrothal announcement of Lady Eowyn and Prince Faramir at the feast tonight. So crack out the mead. I still think their mead stinks of horse-piss though. Too bad Celeborn exhausted his stock of Dorwinion back in Minas Tirith. I don’t suppose Mithrandir could magic up some, eh?   

* * *

 

_Isengard, Yavie, T.A. 3019_

Dear Journal

Talking trees. Talking, walking trees.

This is not right. One would think any weird effects from that Rohan mouldy cheese would appear long before we bade farewell to our host King Eomer. Mithrandir informed me we have encountered Ents but I stand by my belief that we are having some mass hallucination caused by bad cheese. Didn’t all the Ents die out back in the Second Age?

Methinks I need to lie down in the cart… wake me up when we reach Imladris. What is this of bottles of water labelled ‘ _Miracle Cure from Rohan_ ’ doing back here? Not horse-piss I hope.

* * *

 

_Somewhere on the road to Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 3019_

Dear Journal

Just bade farewell to the Lord and Lady of Lorien. Celeborn in tears. Seems that at Galadriel’s urging, he and Fin drew straws to decide who is to stay and keep an eye on the grandchildren (especially the twins) once Galadriel and Elrond sail. Celeborn drew the short straw. Noted a look between Galadriel and Fin which can only be described as smouldering – I can foresee some serious cuckolding in Valinor while Celeborn is babysitting back in Middle Earth. Well, better him than me. Better go convince Elrond he would need a chamberlain of my experience to run his household in Valinor.

Two days more should see us back in Imladris – Master Bilbo will be so pleased to see his nephew and the other young ones again, with their tales of adventure and all. Think young Merry and Pippin had a bit of a growth spurt. I could have sworn they did not come up to my chest the first time we met. Hope that this will not mean they will be requiring more sustenance.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine the Rohirrim diet as being quite meat and dairy heavy (much like that of the steppe people of Mongolia and Central Asia). The maggot cheese is based on a Sardinian traditional cheese.


	76. A Brief Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The elves return to Imladris and the hobbits continue home to the Shire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figwit is glad to be home and imagines his future in Valinor.

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 3019_

Dear Journal

Just bade farewell to the four hobbits and Mithrandir. Master Bilbo is tuckered out from hearing all those tales of adventure from them. It is good to be home. However, Elrond has received a letter from Lord Cirdan regarding the sailing schedule to Valinor. Seems they are fully booked for the next two years. Ah well… More time to put our affairs in order – the twins can start by learning how to manage the household accounts. One cannot rely on Lord Celeborn as he would be busy in Lothlorien.

I am looking forward to a time of peace and quiet before the actual departure – I wonder if my adar has been released from Mandos yet. I do hope Nana would be there to greet me at the pier. Had not really thought about them since Nana sailed at the end of the Second Age after Ada got on the wrong end of an orc arrow. I wonder how they would think of their little sapling all grown into a fine pillar of respectability in Imladris. 

I do hope Lord Elrond will continue to retain my services. I suppose he would need someone to keep his new household in order in Valinor. I wonder if we would be living in Tirion… Or even with Lady Galadriel’s father in the palace. I suppose Lady Celebrian might have been staying with her grandparents since she arrived. It would be proper for Elrond and his wife to have a place of their own, and perhaps the privacy to create more elflings – argh! I suppose they would have their pick of nursemaids and babysitters in Tirion, no?   

Erestor is compiling the list of elves interested in joining Elrond on-board ship. We will have to leave a couple of elves to serve the twins as I doubt they could cook their own meals and stuff. Elrond has talked Erestor into staying back for a couple more years until the twins find their feet in this running Imladris business – or until the Last Homely House crumbles to dust about them, which I think is more likely outcome. In which case, they might be able to shack up with their grandfather – if the Galadhrim have forgotten about that incident with the green hair dye.

There is some talk about bringing Masters Bilbo and Frodo with us to Valinor but I believe that is mere hearsay. Why would Lord Cirdan risk the Valar’s wrath by having mortals sail to Valinor? I doubt Bilbo would even get that far given his ailing health. His mind seems to be wandering off everywhere these days.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving is never an easy task, especially a large move involving a one-way trip across the ocean. Figwit has a low opinion of the twins' abilities in running Imladris.


	77. Farewell to Middle Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Figwit sails with Lord Elrond to Valinor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter for this fic. All good things must come to an end.

_Imladris, Yavie, T.A. 3021_

Dear Journal

After months of preparation, we are ready to make our last journey to Mithlond. I believe Lord Elrond has already instructed his sons sufficiently in the intricacies of managing a household – barring that little incident last summer with the exploding outhouse. I blame Mithrandir for introducing the twins to the joys of fireworks and Dwarf-beer (ugh). Erestor has somehow managed to get Lord Elrond’s massive library packed for the journey – a half-dozen cartloads of books. Regrettably, Erestor reported an accident which resulted in several not-so-important books being burnt, including the previous cook’s wholesome-living recipe collection and my journals of the early Third Age. Wait, my journals are an important record of the life of a common elf. There is more than just your official records, Erestor. Captain Fin is also very upset his stash of erotic artbooks was also lost in the fire. Believe he is giving Erestor a little talking-to in the privy.  

We are just waiting for Gildor Inglorion’s troop of Merry Elves to join us, so as to have some able-bodied elves hauling those books. The band will also be escorting Lady Galadriel from Lothlorien although it is quite late in the season for a crossing. But knowing the Lady’s temper, she would probably have them burrow through a ton of snow if need be. The duties us Imladhrim will be undertaking during the journey have been drawn out. We cannot rely entirely on Gildor’s band – even though they will be sailing too. Lord Elrond insisted it would not be fair. I hope Gildor’s band have cast-iron stomachs when it is Fin’s turn to cook. 

I am not on the cooking roster although I must say I can whip up a mean pot of potatoes and rabbit. Lord Elrond has instructed me to watch over our guest Bilbo since he does have a tendency to wander… wait, isn’t this babysitting in a way?

* * *

 

_Outside the Shire, Yavie, T.A. 3021_

Dear Journal

We are on the road after stopping for a much-needed but too-short rest at the Shire. We have been avoiding the Mannish settlements en-route and roughing it, much to the dismay of those who were hankering for some of old Butterbur’s ale and the low company of his taproom. Glorfindel took himself off with a couple of very obliging hobbit-lasses when we arrived at the Shire despite Lord Elrond’s orders. Galadriel’s stomach must have disagreed with Gildor’s brown hash surprise from last night as she has been giving Glorfindel funny looks. One thinks she might just want to smack him in the head. I don’t mean to judge, but didn’t you go off with Gildor for bit in the bushes? If you did, I don’t blame you for being disappointed. Every elf knows where Gildor’s tastes lie, and it is not with the fairer sex.  

Instead of one patient, we are now saddled with two. Elrond reassures us Sam is just along for the ride. Plus, he has brought his and Frodo’s rations for the journey. Lord Elrond is taking care of Bilbo’s nephew, Frodo. Good Manwe, the lad has definitely taken a turn for the worse over the months – that normally happens with Morgul-wounds. I sincerely hope my lord does not think of sending me to fetch Glorfindel from Galadriel’s tent for his healing light of Valinor. Galadriel will be very displeased having their tryst interrupted. At least Master Bilbo has been a cooperative patient. It’s only his mind that wanders when he is awake and when he is not, I only have to keep him from falling out of his saddle. Mithrandir claimed Valinor would heal him of his weariness but I am doubtful it will cure his underlying infirmity of old age. It’s a mortal thing, which we elves never had to deal with. We just end up killed.   

On the upside, with the younger hobbits, the no-stopping at Mannish inns rule is out the window. We know the hobbits love their little comforts. Warm baths, soft beds – and none of Fin’s dubious cooking. Bilbo had been game enough with the tents and poor fare (or he was dreaming about tea-cakes, roast goose and his cosy little bed back in the Shire). Not so his nephew. Having a Morgul-wound ruins the best disposition eventually. Sam being quite a jolly trooper in keeping his Master Frodo comfortable even on his bad days. I think after all the hell they went through during the Ring War, they have definitely earned their right to those eiderdown pillows.

* * *

 

_Mithlond, Yavie, T.A. 3021_

Dear Journal

We have finally arrived in Mithlond in the last days of fall. Never thought we would find Mithrandir waiting there and complaining we were late. Also with him were the two other hobbits – Merry and Pips, I think. Well, you lot did not have to drag a dozen carts of belongings along poorly-maintained toll roads. I wonder when Estel would turn his attention to restoring the glory of the Northern Kingdom and the city of his forebears. For starters, has he any idea of the size of the potholes in the roads near the Blue Mountains? One could lose a dwarf or two down them. Sam helped one fella out of one and was rewarded with a small bag of gems. Especially since both Lady Galadriel and Fin rode over the top of his head without a second glance. Then Galadriel won most of those gems off Samwise at cheater’s cribbage. I think Sam has been had by the most devious of the Noldor to tread these shores. Will miss having the honest chap around, but he has a young family waiting for him at home. 

Lord Cirdan has a fancy white ship set to sail. He would not be following us just yet – Valar’s orders. Hope he has wisdom not to sail on the same ship as the twins. I can imagine what mischief the pair can get up too with all those ropes and canvas. Mayhaps they can hitch a ride with Legolas or their grandfather. There was a wee disagreement with Elrond over the weight of the cargo. Too many books. After much discussion, Elrond agreed to leave behind several tomes on the flora and fauna of Middle Earth, since they would be of little use in Valinor. If he has any questions about the local wildlife, he could always ask Lady Yavanna, as Mithrandir said. Also to be discarded are some tomes pertaining to the political histories of the Mannish kingdoms – seriously, why would you want to be reminded of that mess?

It is with a sad heart that we bid farewell to the green (mostly) shores of Middle Earth. The future awaits in timeless Valinor, as Gildor sings. Wait, did anyone see Bilbo? Has he wandered off the ship? _(ink blot)_ Found him. Elrond had both Bilbo and Frodo settled into the main cabin. We sail with the tide… has anyone got a seasick bag? This elf is starting to feel a tad queasy. _(scrawl…)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed this little romp off the canon track.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Old friends](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12781986) by [Alystraea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alystraea/pseuds/Alystraea)




End file.
